Four Corners
by wickedsinflower
Summary: Driven by grief and loss, Harry, Draco and Hermione searched the Four Corners of the world for a way out of the darkness. Hermione dug through blood and grave dirt to alter Time, Harry held out his hand to Death, and Draco danced with Fate. The Four Corners of the past, present, future and fate will fold. TimeTrav! Marauders!Era, Dark!Future, Pre-Hogwarts, rating changed.
1. Prologue: Destroyer of Worlds

**Four corners**

 _Four corners will press together in one point, folding until the present unfolds unto the past._

 **Obligatory Disclaimer**

I take many liberties, with tropes and fanon, but aim for a meaning and different sort of realism. I make no money off this.

 **What you Should Know Before Reading**

I know how difficult it is to find 'that story' you want to read. This is a long story, sorted into three acts around ten chapters each, slow burning plots, moving in a non-linear manner. Some chapters bask in certain aspects of daily life and others let time slip by. In time, in appropriate places, there will be romance. Everything will be explained according to the narration of _unreliable_ perspectives in time, in different ways.

* * *

 **Overture: The Loss**

 _:.I am become death, the destroyer of worlds. :_ J. Robert Oppenheimer

In which the story begins and ends.

 _Prologue: Destroyer of Worlds_

* * *

The crack of an Apparition, emblazoned by the fire of a Phoenix's dying wish, thundered from a bluff in an empty plain. A ripple against the tide.

The wind was a living thing in the clear, cold sky, howling upon the rocks of the plateau, clawing along the bones of the earth and the grasses of the steppe. It was an unearthly creature, circling vulnerable prey. Unheeding of the pain the three mortals under its wing span suffered. The low keening moan of grief had bled into the environment itself, and the wind wailed until the chill of the light died.

Hermione Granger had no more tears in her body. Just shuddering, wracking sobs that spasmed within her periodically. With numb, chapped, and bloodied hands, she ripped stone out from the earth and packed them tightly upon the grave of her friend. Her good, and loyal, and true friend.

Lighting flashes of his selfless last stand blazed in her memory. Harry re-emerging from somewhere beyond his cover, too far from her. Malfoy's face of fear and determination, so near, undoing the curse upon her body. She watched helplessly as Ron's body spun, blood and darker magic radiating out of him. Harry roared, watching his friend die for him.

The grave was finished. She did not see the plain before her, she did not feel the cold or the bitterness of the wind.

A small cry of pain, and a sharp low, "Granger!" were whisked away by the teeth of the wind as quick as she heard them.

She turned too quickly, fear rising the bile in her throat once more, burning and raw, as she toppled. Her leg and arm seized in protest and so she crawled and stumbled over Draco Malfoy to Harry.

Harry gurgled a sickly green pitch, his veins black beneath sheer skin.

"Ma-" Hermione's voice broke, as raw as it was. She managed to rasp, "Malfoy, get my bag, get it! Call for the White Water, Dittany, wand - I need my wand." She needed the precise control of power to stop Harry from deteriorating.

Unfortunately, thankfully, she hadn't been out of practice in treating curses. Malfoy would help.

Night fell, but the moon never rose. The only light to be seen for miles by red eagles and grey wolves was a shimmer and glow of white and gold, thrumming in and out as they worked.

There was nothing now, except the stillness. The quiet was painful to listen to. At least, Draco thought so. He realized the muttering witch heard no silence.

Draco, sitting next to Potter, began to watch her as the morning broke over the horizon. She was staring at the scattered books she had brought.

"Not enough, can't happen, cut through- simplest solution." She was muttering like she was reminding herself.

He looked to Harry Potter. Seeing the face of his enemy-turned-ally so near death, the familiar blackened twist of wrought iron emotion gripped him: hate, hope, trepidation, admiration, fear all sat heavily in his gut.

Potter was curled into himself, his heavy head in his hands.

Harry's eyes were closed. His folded glasses next to his head were bloodspattered. One lense cracked. Draco was dizzy with fear and confusion.

How was this nightmare supposed to end if Harry _bloody_ Potter couldn't end it? Wasn't Granger yelling about it one night? They had been on the run for quite some time after their exist from his family's Manor.

Draco, his voice thick, "Granger- he can't die."

"Shut it- e's not. That's why you're watching him. Now, pay attention- I'm thinking." Her hair ripped at her face; swollen, pale, drawn. But her eyes were alert, fervent.

It was luck that they had gotten this far, Draco knew. His face was contorted watching Hermione Granger. Potter was the only way to kill the monster that warped the world to this hellish state.

The school near in ashes, bodies piled high, scattered low. The Death Eaters plucking their web in the government, licking their chops. One by one, the ripe fruit of those who stood for the light fell like drops of blood into the maw of darkness.

Draco shuddered.

He could not allow this pain to continue if he was ever going to have a moment of peace with himself again. He looked at Hermione, who had suddenly become still, looking up into the sky.

She turned to Draco. The ripped clothing and blood was so unbefitting of her present expression. Her hair moved around her in aberrant curled tendrils.

"I need a book. I need an _original_ book. The _first_ Library."

Draco sputtered, "Apparition, now? At the risk of sounding asinine, we've been apparated to somewhere in Mongolia by a dead phoenix and you want to visit a mythical library? _In Egypt?_ "

Hermione stood unsteadily and pointed to Harry, though her voice was clear. "Help me disband- we're going to find it, and then we're going to meet Death- see if he can't introduce us to someone."

* * *

If Hermione was in any different state, she may have been overwhelmed with joy at the sight of so many books. Found through trails in the sands of the Ancients- it was a ill kept mythologized secret. Knowledge, the gateway to hope, was guarded by challenges and the ruins of history.

The entranceway to the library was smooth, golden brown limestone. The polished marble floors gleamed and arched into bookshelves taller than Hermione had ever dreamed of seeing. In the center, just before the bookshelves began, a statue of a woman stood sentinel.

At least, Hermione thought it was a statue. Its proud face had delicate angles. The curved body held itself royally, and was draped in leopard skin. In its formidable hands, poised gracefully, an object like a pen.

* * *

If Harry was in any different state, he would have gone first, having Hermione watch his back as he trusted no other person in the world to do. No other person in the world now. His heart clenched unbearably. Shaking, he held his wand at his side, grateful at least that Draco proved to be clever, quick and an ally. His heart in his chest flared with a burning hope that their sacrifices to get here would prove worthwhile.

It would be worthwhile, he swore to himself, for he had absolute faith in Hermione. Her footsteps, though soft, clicked against the floor. The click resounded through Egyptian pillars patterned with thousands of years of history in hieroglyphics. They looked singed, and dusty, but Hermione's clothes, especially charred, flaked and fell upon the floor where it fluttered briefly and disappeared. Harry swallowed and tried not to to think too hard.

* * *

If Draco was in any different state, he would have felt embarrassed by being so grubby. The high wide walls of limestone were permeated with the scent of leather, paper, papyrus vellum, the oil of candlelight and ink. He breathed in deeply, and saw that Hermione was doing the same.

He shifted and held his wand a little higher. It would do no good if he let down his guard with Potter hanging off of him.

The statues eyes shone as if a light passed over them.

She awakened. Available for any questions and directions in the library, She was Seshat.

She directed them with patience and detachment, her voice like water, gentle and powerful as it waterfalled over them. Draco briefly admired the complex transfiguration spell, but Hermione and Harry, it seemed, had different ideas. Hermione seemed timid when she asked questions about the books she needed. Timid as she hadn't been since their first year when Draco insulted her.

Unnerved by the transformation, he prodded the mad, clever witch with his foot on her rump and hissed, "She's told us where the books are, so let's get to it." He thought of the sphinx outside and whether it would get hungry.

The Statue of Seshat watched them impassively with golden glowing eyes.

Hermione turned to glare at him quickly, covering her bottom, and turned in a half bow to the Statue. Hermione said quietly and with reverence, "Thank you for your assistance, it is deeply appreciated."

Harry made to copy Hermione with an odd dip, but lost his balance. Wonder was still on his face when Draco propped him back up.

* * *

The woman turned back to her paper and Her eyes ceased to glow. Hermione looked around to spot the hieroglyphics they needed upon the pillars. She ventured forth past the empty avatar of Seshat, gingerly favoring the leg that had been cursed.

The illumination of the library was warm. The knit of the draped canvas cloth over square cut outs placed strategically through the ceiling let in pinpricks of scattered light. It appeared to be sunlight. Yet, as they moved, a light like fire glazed over the shelves and columns.

They walked for some time, Hermione looking up at the columns, reciting the directions the Statue woman told them. She stopped suddenly. The bend of a column opened to the shelves lined with mezuzahs.

Harry halted. The pillar was decorated and deeply foreboding. Underneath a blanket of stars was a dog faced man, with men in robes carrying scrolls. He stared at the procession.

Draco stepped away from him, following Hermione around the bend.

There were bound records, here, and some bound in strange materials.

Hermione began to look through the shelves. She poured over books and with single minded determination for hours.

Draco and Harry nervously patrolled the sprawling knowledge catacomb, attempting to not stray too far from a completely absorbed Hermione.

They found statues, in different styles from different eras, as well as odd contraptions at some of the vast intersections of the library. They were quite sure the bookshelves hadn't moved, but the shelving hadn't exactly stayed put.

Draco had checked some books and discovered spells, which were repetitive, save the order they came in and the names.

"Seems to be a protective ritual of some sort."

Harry grunted, "From what?"

Draco didn't really want to find out, but Harry had a brittle, razor eagerness for the answer.

They became lost, despite their very best efforts, and encountered a man with the head of a strange bird with a long, thin beak. A voice crashed upon the walls from this man who opened his palm towards them and spoke:

DO YOU COME FORTH BY DAY

Harry looked at Draco "Er-" and Draco's mouth gaped and shut.

* * *

Hours later, Hermione looked up and saw Harry and Draco, who were seemingly falling upon themselves in the middle of the room for no reason, shouting unintelligibly.

Harry was grasping onto an amulet in the vague shape of an eye. It was not only red, but burning red, wavering the air in front of it with ripples that warmed the air around it in glory.

Harry hopped onto one leg, as he was still favoring the left from a curse he received, and Draco rolled backwards and staggered up. Hermione looked as if she was gathering herself in preparation for a desperate kind of joy.

Harry, wincing at her, pushing up his glasses which were still cracked on the left side of the frame, said "I think…. we found something." He held it up to her.

Hermione's hair crackled as she climbed down from her perch of books and scrolls, holding something so very familiar to Harry: the Deathly Hallows. The symbol was engraved upon the black cover of a tome.

She held it over another tome unfamiliar to him. A shadow like a bird but far too large, made the light with no source darken momentarily.

"Me too," She breathed. "We're going to need your blood." She held up the book of Deathly Hallows and held the other tome close to her chest.

* * *

The cave had few streams of light breaking through. It was damp, chilly, and far from the library. Moss dangled in bright green phalanges from the walls, but otherwise, the corners were dark, run through with some kind of crystal formation.

Malfoy's hair was dirty and limp; he was breathing heavily, and was clearly frustrated. Harry knew he was getting more nervous as Hermione went on with her work. Her determination was frightening, but her idea- he breathed in.

The smell of blood in his hand from the dragon scale he held was heady, spicy, a scarlet more bright than human blood, and in movement more crimson. It was a red too unreal to be anything but the essence of a magical creature. He watched the blood ooze and drip from the scale into the small phial he held to its corner.

Harry had the serenity he got after his brushes with death. Exhilarated despite himself, but grimly clear headed.

He listened to Dracos strained shouting, "Hermione you can't meet Death! He's not going to put on a hat and join you for tea over in this bloody forsaken -" he gasped raggedly, fear and desperation etched into his face. His hand up on his head as if he were trying to illustrate the absurdity of the situation.

Hermione, her wand and hands gloved in magic, reached into the pure white sand pile.

Draco seemed resigned as he put his hand down from his mock hat tipping. His tone quieted, but was no less pleading.

"You haven't even told me why you're going to smear my blood all over that archway. You smeared Potters blood all over that- that Hallow book, and now you want mine for- for what? So we can meet Fate like the Potters met Death? I spent all this time with you thinking maybe blood wasn't that important and now- it's all you need."

Harry abysmally said, "We can still do that, have me meet death. If you'd like. It can all be over if you'd just let me face Voldemort. Though it's nice to know you won't go on being a mudblood hater Malfoy."

Hermione stated flatly before Malfoy could retaliate, "Harry- you're not going to just go and be _dead_ , we need to fix _everything_. You can meet Fate, Malfoy- you are a Black. Just as the Potters met Death. It has to do with connection and family, not clean or dirty blood. It's ties. Ties and planes. All we need is Time, remember?" She was working, her wand making small movements, tracings of runes, over and over again as sand swirled and met a little bit of dragon blood.

Harry, from his position on the outcrop,"Time isn't going to be enough, is it?"

He looked at the sword of Gryffindor, laying at his side, shimmering with red.

Draco whimpered.

* * *

" **We three require a task, an object and a favor**."

Harry's voice broke over the last syllable the women had chorused in unison. He said over the sound of the ocean and the chant, "Anything."

The women, a crone, a mature woman and a fair girl, looked at him with the infinity of stars in their eyes. Harry stood resolute, but Draco seemed to have something taken out from under him.

" **The trade** -" They said in unison, as the wave of water crashed upon black rocks of a sea within the Aegean sea, while Draco breathed in to protest, "-is to be accepted."

Draco ferociously grabbed Harry, seething, "That is not how you make deals! You don't know what they want!"

Harry yelled back over the sea spray, "We don't have anything else Draco- what could we possibly give them that hasn't already been taken away?"

Draco shoved Harry away and growled, "You bloody, stupid-" He twisted away and then yelled back, "I don't even know how you made it this far you- you don't know what they want and you don't know what you have until it's lost!" He gestured wildly, his eyes catching on Hermione, who had been statuesque.

Harry spat, glaring at Draco, "Don't you think I know that?"

The three women looked upon Hermione and the old crone smiled, "I will see you again before long, you will grant me a favor in the past. It is one in the same."

Hermione met the eyes and in her hand she found the handle of a loutrophoros. She felt fierce joy from it, they were halfway there.

The woman, aged and ageless, looked into Harry, "The object I desire is rightfully ours. It was stolen from us."

A wheel, an eye, a riddle artifact, naught but a secret. He _knew_ , what made Voldemort so _powerful_ \- in seeing into the hearts of wizards, controlling them.

The voice of the young girl looked at the once Noble Malfoy and said, "Your task will be to get it back for us- it is a good trade. For in helping you, we help ourselves, and the wheel turns once more."

* * *

A stone archway, a fraternal twin to the one that Department of Mysteries hid in its depths, stood before them. A great Oak was shadowed behind it. The mists of the moors dampened their sounds.

Hermione was digging her hands through cold grave dirt. She was digging, digging and she kept digging; heedless of the twisting pain that had been creeping up her back since the battle that made her bury Ron. She was rehearsing the stories, the history, every family line and clue.

Draco had been more helpful than she had first thought. Weary and damaged but not yet broken he had lifted his head to her and asked, "We need power. And more luck."

Harry held the stone and helped direct the water into a wavering ring. The water coiled from the odd looking vase, what Hermione had called a loutrophoros, that they had gotten from the weird sisters- or the Moira, whatever they were.

Draco renewed his efforts with the fire from the Eye of Ra that they had gotten from the trial in the Library. The Box and the stone sat untouched upon the third corner of the circle. The glass balls of sand that Hermione had made had been added. They were spinning slowly in odd orbits.

"I don't see how this wild snitch chase is going to solve _anything_. Something's gone wrong and the Death Eaters are gaining more power and there's little to nothing else left-" Draco said, loudly regretting the role he had played in getting the Box.

Harry clenched his jaw- wishing he had been awake when the plan changed- but they had come too far.

Draco was just searching for a more practical way to go about defeating Lord Voldemort, and in that Harry grudgingly admired him. Hermione remained silent, but unearthed a smooth and crooked branch that could be none other than the Oak wand of Merlin.

Merlin had been sorted into Slytherin, but in the stories, Merlin had lived before the Founders- Hermione had told them, holding out the tomeonce she had the Box.

He had seemed to have multiple lives, or an unusually long one, calling himself by no other name than Merlin with unmistakable magic. There was something a little inhuman about him, she suspected, but this was the only stable way- the only way that she could find that had been done before, she insisted.

Harry remembered her lessons, fervently told to him in their third year when they succeeded in rescuing Sirius. The charm of the time turner was unstable, unless you had permission.

And only one person had ever gotten permission. The ancestor of Draco Malfoy.

Merlin's time in Slytherin at Hogwarts was plagued by conflict and rivalry between Salazar Slytherin and his two remaining founders, but in the sources she had found in Alexandria, there were _two histories._ A purveyor of Muggle rights, stopping the rise of a Dark Magic in the eleven hundreds, and Merlin from just before the kingdom of Arthur.

He carried a Wand of Oak from Avalon, and possessed a Box, and for his final triumvirate, a Book of his spells. Merlin's Mark contained power and was on all three, though she doubted that he created them entirely on his own.

She needed to bring the four corners together, but she didn't need every piece- just enough of the pieces. Enough weight to give her a chance- to give Harry a chance.

The charms of time, trapped in their spheres so that it could not pass.

Merlins wand of knowing, and his Box that held the unknown, and blood of his descendant.

The Cloak of Death and the Stone and the book that recorded the Peverells fate.

The loutrophoros that held the water that pulls as it pushes, that stays the lines between life and forgotten-ness. The unblinking Eye of Ra- a borrowed power. Their own power.

Then, she prayed that something would happen where she could be given more time, time to go back. To save the people who were at the crux, the ones who were at the crux. Let her be the crux, she would give it all up- she had nothing left- nothing left to lose except for her very oldest friend and her newest.

It would be in their hands. In the Hallow of Death, Fate, and Time, she would call to them with the stone of Death and the wand of Merlin and the sacrifice of time.

It had to work.

She handed the wand and book to Draco.

Harry pulled the cloak out, and covered himself.

She must do this. She held the box, the amulet, and tipped the water and released the final piece of time.

* * *

The graveyard, that had been until this point untouched for two thousand years, was silent. Silver mist swirled. Death, Fate and Time had arrived.

Only Time would speak.

* * *

 **Notes on Chapter things:** HP Canon Merlin was sorted into Slytherin, but Merlin would have been born before Hogwarts. I incorporated Greek mythos, as well as Egyptian mythology in this premise, which will be important later. Mythology is a recurring theme.

Replaced 2/27 for a minor inconsistency.


	2. 1: I : 1 : Beginnings

**Act I: Childhood**

" _Study the past if you wish to define the future._ _ **"**_ Confucius

And so it begins anew, it is decided, and she moves forward into the past.

 _Chapter 1: Beginnings_

* * *

Her head hurt, but strangely, it was pleasant. The dull ache of hunger, dehydration, the steady burning in her back, the throbbing ache of her cursed leg along and of mutilated skin on her arm was no more. Waking from sleep was almost peaceful. The pain in her head as if she had overslept. She had a brief thought that she couldn't remember when she had felt so at ease… and comfortable.

She was warm, laying in a bed. After that realization, the sensory overload flooded in. She was wearing pajamas, had cotton sheets and a comforter brushing her face, her hair was clean, her nails weren't hurting from dirt and blood under them.

Her eyes snapped open, registering a canopy above her, pink with white trim, attached to a four poster bed of a modest dark wood. The bedspread was lined in a pattern of embroidered roses, the morning light making them look especially sprightly and happy.

Her heart began to beat faster.

She turned to her side and to face another canopy bed, white with pink trim, decorated with lilies. There was a lump in the middle, child sized and breathing. The decor of the room, so outdated to her eyes, was pink and white flower wallpaper, roses and lilies, leaf green carpet.

Where was she? She breathed in and suddenly, it wasn't her at the graveyard of Merlin, it wasn't her remembering constantly the flashes of her friend spinning, spinning and dying as the light in his blue eyes dimmed. There were other things, child-like thoughts. Like today she was excited because she knew today was park day.

Things like how she suddenly knew, _knew,_ that the girl in the bed next to her was her sister Lily.

Lily Evans.

The shock froze her for an indeterminate amount of time- slowly registering. It was successful. Whatever magic she called upon; it worked.

She began to tremble with overwhelming ricochet, sinking into her stomach and heart.

It _had_ worked but it was absolutely _not_ in the way she was expecting. She was expecting to be sent back _with_ Harry and Draco, perhaps just to the summer, or before- ...she couldn't _think_.

She moved the covers off herself, and stretched a little too far to reach the ground as she had since she was seven- because for her and her sisters birthday that year they had gotten big-girl beds, for grown up ladies.

Hermione wiggled her toes in the shag carpeting, worn a little from her doing the same thing everyday for three years. It was dizzying, the simultaneous notion that she had never before done this and sensation that she had many times previous.

Hermione Rose Evans opened the door into their house located in Cokeworth, not far from the houses that the Granger family would live in in about 17 years from now. The date was 1971, January 23rd. She knew it was the same year that Lily would go to Hogwarts, because they were ten now and on the 30th they would be eleven, and then in the summer is when they would get their letter from Hogwarts. It was sort of dim, this understanding. As if she couldn't quite feel the consequence but understood it.

The overlay of information made her nauseous.

She began to panic, for how was she supposed to do everything over again? She had wanted to start the year over or go back to when Professor Dumbledore was still alive- not beginning to fight a new war. She _asked_ to have permission to go back in time to win the war- what was she supposed to do _before_ the war, her war, had started?

Breathing was difficult, the hallway lent itself perfectly to the tunnel vision the young woman in the little girl's body had when she reached the end of the hallway. It seemed so difficult to reach the door, she ran her hands along the peeling paint around the edges, and pushed open the door to the very clean brown tiled bathroom. She shut the door behind her and locked it, still shaking. Forcing herself to breathe in and out. She looked at herself in the mirror, small, tiny even, to her mind's eye of a young adult.

Her face was strange, uncanny. She looked at the mirror and knew herself to be changed but similar. Curly auburn hair, tumbled around her shoulders. In the soft young face were bright green eyes. Green eyes as Harry's ever were, as Lily's _are,_ stared at her. She had her Da's eyes, same as Lily. Gone were her mother's eyes, an earthy hazel.

The only thing she had left of her parents from her old life, now just a memory of who she used to be.

She began to cry, and in her child's voice it came out as a high keening. She couldn't even think of the implications. She turned to the shower, quickly running the water to cover the noise, to feel water over her skin. To be clean and to have a physical sensation instead of drifting in this terrible way.

The thin adolescent body clambering into the bath, her mind too heavy for it. She let the water wash over her as she bundled up against herself in fetal position.

She laughed through the pain, finding hysterical irony in her position. She held onto the thought, which became mantra- _another chance_. Echoing in her head in a calming voice as the water cradled her in white noise.

After all... everything that had happened- hadn't _actually_ happened- yet. She was still here, she would have another chance to make things better. Just like she had promised Harry.

 _It's another chance._

Later, she went to dress in her room and found that Lily's bed was all made. The smell of eggs with buttery toast and bacon wafted up from the kitchen down below.

It was a Saturday, and soon she would face her parents as an adult pretending to be a child. Her Da at the table reading the same magazine that her Father had subscribed to.

This family, the Evans family, was not as wealthy as the Grangers. They valued family and education more so than the clean picture of success paired with education, and didn't seem bothered by their lifestyle. The Granger family was nice, but the Evans family were demonstrably more affectionate towards one another. Hermione had never _quite_ been- she swallowed and allowed the thought to die. She couldn't examine every layer and comparison and remain sane.

Her Mummy, Mrs. Evans, worked mostly as homemaker, but got a small part time job attending to pastries and cakes for a decorator further uptown in a better part of the city. Mummy liked it and it suited her she said. Da was a mill town construction worker, and many people called out cheerfully "Mr. Evans!" in the neighborhood. Hermione, as if making sense of a picture after staring at it, understood that her father also was recognised as having leanings in the political arena. The memory of her mother and father, however, her Dentist parents sitting at the dining table with their light non-sugar breakfast, both with an academic journal or the newspaper in hand, greeting Hermione warmly and with love, stayed in her mind. The two sets blurred over each other.

She dressed and tried to be happy that today was park day, shoving any thought that even resembled loneliness, despair or fear firmly under a lid. Her parents were supposed to be allowing them to go to the park, the only park around these industrious suburbs, with Petunia as a purveyor. Lily and Hermione didn't get to go often. It was winter, and they needed to have their older sister there for guidance. It was soon going to be their birthday during the upcoming week and they had managed to cajole their parents into letting them go on the wintery weekend if the weather was nice.

Hermione hopped down the stairs. Laughter shot out of the kitchen as she rounded the entrance way just past the stairs. Coming around the corner she was almost blinded by the morning sunlight streaming down falling upon the bright yellow kitchen. Her mum was wearing long linen pants that flowed around her legs, cinched high at the waist topped with a floral blouse that had a bit of flour dusted on it. Her Da was wearing flared casual jeans and a dark green turtleneck and was trying to dance with her Mummy while she attempted to move pancakes around. He stole the pan from her and Lily squealed from her seat, hands clapping together, "Flip it high!"

Her Da, red hair and long defined features, turned and grinned at Lily with mischievously bright green eyes, and performed as she wished. He did so much to the amusement of his wife, who watched with softer features, a dreamy set to her big blue eyes and a lovely cloud of blonde hair down to her hips. Her Mummy looked like she was made of glass and sunshine. Hermione flicked her eyes over to Petunia who had her mother's coloring, and her face held no trace of her snooty and cold personality Hermione was acquainted with. Petunia had become frigid later in her life, but for now she was a glowing thirteen year old girl.

They noticed her lingering in the doorway. Lily's smile was bright and scootched aside on her bench to make room for her twin. Da asked her with a laugh under his voice "One or two crempogs for my little mabi fi1?"

Hermione blinked and recalled that they only had crempogs during birthdays, and that _crempogs_ were really pancakes, just Welsh. Her Da was Welsh. She loved pancakes. It had been a lifetime since she had them. She didn't know if she could stomach to eat them, but clearly she was supposed to be hungry and... "Just one, please…" She said politely.

Hermione sat down and Lily's smile dimmed just slightly as her face lingered on hers- her bright green eyes boring holes into her. Harry would look like that when he had one of his insightful moments. She hunched away.

Petunia pursed her lips and said, "Hermione Rose Evans, have you even brushed your hair? We're going _out_ to the _park_." She said as if going out to the park was like going out to tea with the Duchess. Hermione stared blankly at Petunia, and before she decided Petunia meant it in a kind and bossily older sister way, Mrs. Evans extracted herself from Mr. Evans, and bent down kissing her on the forehead. "It's alright, I'll brush it before you go out." This Mummy, smelled strongly of lemon, sugar and a floral perfume. Mother always smelled like sweet mint.

Lily was watching her intently. Their father called from the stovetop, "Tosh, just one she says, it's like I made this batch for the little people instead of the growing girls I know I have."

Lily asked bluntly, "What's wrong Hermione, why aren't you happy?"

Unsettling attention was placed in full force upon her, and Hermione had to resist the urge to hide her face in her hands. She settled on apprehensively, "I'm just tired."

It looked as if her family did not believe her. "I was er-" She scrambled to find an answer. "I'm just worried… so I er- stayed up late reading."

Her mother stilled, and Petunia drew herself up straighter. Lily tilted her head down and looked extremely empathetic, and Hermione knew exactly what she was thinking "No! It was about- uh school it wasn't about- about _that._ "

Her Da gave a sharp look to Petunia who still staring at the twins. "Your gifts are perfectly _natural_. You've just been blessed by the green is all, you both are very special and don't dwell your del2 head on it."

Pretending to be properly abashed she drew herself together, her mother kissed her forehead again and squeezed her tightly. She said "You're pretty and lovely and nothing you could do ever would be wrong."

Hermione thought she had a very good retort for that. It wasn't the thought of an eleven year old girl, but it wasn't said, thankfully, because she couldn't draw breath from the force of the hug. The thought that rose up stubbornly that it wasn't just that she was _naturally_ all of those things, she was going to work hard to be the best that she could be, but she squashed her other mothers voice before it leapt out.

She ate delicious crempogs and watched the Evans family laugh, in which Petunia delightfully recounted stories and her Da joined in with jokes that Lily responded to with admiration and glee. Hermione could recall some of these stories, most of them were overshadowed by the weight and ferocity of her mind placed in this girl. It seemed duller since after the water.

The weave into time was beginning to make sense, she had to go back, but to do that successfully she had to have _been_ in the past. The placement she understood, but logically, the most effective she could be would not be at the age of eleven. She couldn't help but feel selfishly glad for the reprieve. She felt heavy and slow and didn't know what she was going to do- but right now, things were pleasant.

After breakfast, she drew herself together as if casting the Patronus charm and carried a silver wisp of happiness all the way to the Park.

Lily, Petunia and Hermione were on the swings. Their parents would bring by lunch so they could dine alfresco if the weather lasted through the afternoon.

It was cold outside, the sun barely shining through the silver grey of the clouds, but for January it was a bearable day and playing made it seem all the warmer. It was amazing they could go out at all and forgo their coats.

Lily and Hermione were swinging together holding hands and Lily looked at Hermione, smile big, her red hair near glowing in the sun, rushing forward as fast as they could together. Lily giggled and then Hermione's heart skipped a beat, because she could _just tell_ that Lily was planning on flying and she had no choice, to either fly or fall as Lily pulled her.

Petunia shrieked, "Don't do it!"

Lily gave a great shout of laughter as she launched forward. And they flew off the swings. Hermione couldn't help but smile in pleasure at the pure safe and free feeling. Light as a feather they glided down. It was the first time she ever felt floating senselessly in the air was acceptable. She looked around and saw Petunias look of horror on her face as she stood not far from them next to her swing.

Hermione landed and felt then quite glad she was on the ground. It was a rush having her head in the clouds but then coming down to earth her common sense returned to her. Lily looked at her exuberantly. Hermione was thinking now what kind of consequences there were for underage magic. They didn't use a wand, but surely- there was someone somewhere watching. Petunia certainly thought someone was.

She hissed, "You can't- Mummy said that you weren't allowed to where people could see!" It was plain to see that Petunia was actually quite frightened, but Lily was anxious to placate her so she wouldn't be mad said, "But we're fine. And no one's seen." Petunia glanced around, her eyes narrowing. Lily slipped off to the bushes, finding some with timid buds for blossoms.

"'Tuney, look at this watch what we can do." Hermione stood behind, and watched Petunia stomp over to her, intent on cowing Lily into recitance.

She was quite confused. For one, she wanted Lily to be careful, but she saw no reason to hide their magic. She looked around the park, carefully, and spotted a dark shape, half hidden by a tree and the undergrowth. It looked like someone might be hiding, but it wasn't a grown someone.

Hermione's eyes went wide, and started over to the sisters, but not because Lily was beckoning her. Lily said "Look, Petuney, look what we can do." then smiled and touched a bud upon a bush.

Hermione stepped close, keeping a wary eye on the shape. Lily grabbed Hermione's hand and placed it over the rose bush. Her intent was clear- she wanted to make it bloom. As soon as she thought it, Lily made it the blossom fully bloom in pink and yellow and close again and bloom and close again.

Petunias face, no longer under the guise of being angry, grew scared. She paled and said, "Stop it! Stop it, this instant!"

Lily frowned, wrinkling her brow prettily. "It's not hurting you, or anything."

Petunia stumbled back clutching her skirt tightly in a white knuckled grip. Lily released the flower and Hermione's hand. She remained silent though she felt she ought to say to her sister, that that wasn't the best rationale for an excuse to do something.

"It's not right," Petunia said, her hands still gripping her skirt. Her eyes on the flower bush. The flower remained in bloom, the only flower on the bush. "How...do you do that?"

Hermione then felt like her heart was breaking at the longing in the eldest Evans sisters voice. She couldn't imagine what would have happened if her magic was taken from her, or if she knew about magic and couldn't perform it. She didn't dwell on it, resolving to solve the matter of saving Petunia Evans' heart for a different day.

Hermione watched the shadow move. Covered mostly in a big mans jacket and oddly shaped boots, the small human stepped forward from his hiding place next to the tree. Hermione went behind Lily as the boy with lank black hair, a melancholic face and a fierce expression in his black eyes said, "It's obvious, isn't it?" Petunia let out a small scream and fled back to the swings.

Lily turned, certainly surprised to find him there, but not as shocked as Hermione was, for entirely different reasons."What's so obvious? If it's obvious then it shouldn't be mentioned."

The boy was nervous by his body language but his face was excited. "I know what you are."

"Humans?" Hermione said. She couldn't help it, it had slipped out albeit with more pepper than she intended and she came up by Lily.

"No! You're witches." He stepped forward, almost pleading with Lily, who looked quite to be on the verge of being affronted.

"That's not a very nice thing to say to girls." She turned her nose up at him and hooked her arm to Hermione's, intent on flouncing off.

"He's right." Hermione said quietly, just because it was almost painful to see him so eager and then so crushed. So easily could she see the cold, older man that he would be, the man that she admired despite his poisonous personality.

Lily looked at her, but Severus jumped in "There's nothing bad about being a witch. My mum is one, and I am a wizard." He gave a crooked smile, hope coloring his face with bright spots of color on his pale skin.

Lily seemed to simply accept Hermione's word and didn't drag her off in a fit of affrontation.

Hermione turned to Snape, "I am Hermione-" she stopped suddenly but Lily covered perfectly, unintentionally. "I'm Lily. And that was our eldest sister Petunia. We're are you?"

He licked his lips and said "Severus, Severus ...Snape."

Hermione looked over at Petunia looking over at them from the swing set.

Hermione said, "I'll go talk to Petunia."

She walked over to their sister with purpose. Petunia had crossed her arms and looked contemptuously victorious and said snootily, "That's that Snape boy, he lives down on Spinners end."

"So? Just because of where people live and the circumstances they are born in doesn't make them who they are, Petunia. Go and tell Mummy and Da that we're going to have a friend join us for lunch and we want them to meet him."

Petunia scoffed and said loudly, "That's a laugh, you two are going to come with me. You're not going anywhere near _that_ boy."

Hermione turned back to look at Lily and Snape. Snape was attempting to convey with one waving arm something wonderful. Lily had tilted her head and watched with reserved fascination, but he had stopped at Petunias spitting words. His jeans were obviously too short, the overcoat was shoddy and he had tightened his overcoat around his skinny frame. In this moment she was so reminded of Harry, it hurt.

Petunia moved past Hermione with an air of going to get her way. "Lily!" She called out imperiously, imitating their mother but in a harsher way. "Lily! That boy was spying on us we don't want to talk to him."

Hermione huffed and blew hair out of her eyes in frustration. Snape called down from where Lily was standing with him. The wind caught on his jacket making him look extremely melodramatic when he said, "Haven't been spying," the adult condescending tone in his voice was biting, his accent making it rougher.

Hermione saw when the sun burst out of the clouds, the smock he was wearing for a shirt revealed to be dirty, faint discoloration on his face. "I wouldn't spy on _you_ anyway," His face sneering, voice spiteful, " _you're_ a muggle."

Shrilly Petunia said, "Lily, Hermione, we're leaving." Lily glared at Snape and followed Petunia. Hermione watched them walk to her and Petunia snapped, "Come on."

Hermione looked at Severus Snape's face, bitter with disappointment. It was a snap decision, something that came to her suddenly.

It was this day, the reason she was placed here. As close to the beginning as possible. It was because this day, if she was going to make things different, better as she promised to her memories and to herself, it was to begin here.

She ran over to the painfully awkward boy. Strange and ignorant of normal human interaction he stood as a stuck twig in the mud. She ran up to him as fast as she could, running from Petunia and Lily's chorus of protests.

He glared up at her. She said, "Look, maybe if you want to make friends you shouldn't go around being mean to people just because of how they're born. We're coming back to the park soon, so we'll meet up again okay, Severus?"

Severus thin face was split by a smile. Hermione looked into the shy but eager face of Severus Snape and knew that everything was starting much sooner than she thought.

Hermione looked at Petunia and then her parents. Her mother said "Lily, Hermione what were you two thinking? We told you never _ever_ to do that in public where people could see." She was upset because she was frightened, Hermione knew, but she remembered that most of the time children didn't understand that.

Her Da, tight lipped, "It's dangerous. You deliberately did ...what you did, and made your sister very upset-"

Hermione thought that perhaps they expected her to cry, perhaps show recalcitrance. Lily was certainly abashed but she looked at them with a pleading face and said, "There wasn't anyone there!"

Hermione was neither pleading or embarrassed when she said, "I am sorry that you feel that way, and I know that it was dangerous. It is. There was someone there. But that boy that we met-" She had to pause to remember what it was that she was supposed to know about him first. "He said he was a wizard and that he knows what we are. Mummy, Da- we can learn a lot from him and it looked like he was in desperate need of a friend."

She looked back to Lily who was nodding profusely and then stopped at the part where Severus needed a friend. Hermione turned back to her parents, attempting to explain. They looked a little taken aback as she continued matter of factly, "I am sorry for upsetting Petunia, but it has been a long while since we've been able to go to the park, and Lily's -er, and I've been so excited it's- well, it's hard to hold it in."

She looked at their faces and seeing as they weren't visibly convinced she plowed onward, attempting to convey the importance of this meeting.

"We promise we'll behave and we'll come straight home." Lily turned to her with her hands on her hips and sounded like she was reminding her of something that she thought should have been obvious, "Hermione, that Snape was mean to Petunia, we're not his friends."

Hermione said back patiently, "Yes, but Petunia was mean to him first." She didn't believe for one minute he didn't hear her speak down to him. She would definitely have to deal with prejudice. Her parents looked at each other and seemed to have kind of a telepathic conversation with their eyebrows. Hermione was stubborn and she wasn't going to risk Lily not having Severus Snape as a friend, or vice versa.

They were granted permission by their parents, under the conditions that as long as they met him for lunch, they didn't go over to his house, and that they were home long before dark.

Hermione couldn't help the smile of success, and she turned to Lily and said, "Come on Lily, it'll be great. I bet he can tell us loads."

Lily huffed, "I don't see him at all, you suppose we should just start eating them now?"

Hermione shook her head, "Honestly Lily, have a lick of patience. He's around but clearly doesn't like being out- look." She nodded her head towards the bushes that they had been over by earlier.

Severus was seated under one of the trees, hugging his knees and didn't seem to be waiting for them.

Hermione nudged her sister, and tilted her head meaningfully. Lily pursed her lips and said, "Oi you there- Snape. We brought a picnic."

Severus jerked his head up and grabbed the ground. Hermione and Lily started walking over to him.

Hermione said, "Do you know a good spot to eat out sandwitches?"

Severus, caught off guard said in a perfectly flat voice, "I don't have any...food for a picnic." There was a little northerner lilt to his voice that hadn't been there earlier.

Lily shrugged, "Show us a good spot to eat them and you can have the crisps and the sandwich."

Severus nodded and turned to the thicket.

Once they had laid out the blanket and found a nice shady spot that buffered the wind Lily couldn't hold it in anymore. "So, you're a wizard? How do you know?"

Severus looked awkward, standing at the edge of the picnic blanket but he drew himself up and said, "My mother teaches me spells. She lets me use her wand sometimes and let's me read all her old books- sometimes."

Lily gaped. "Your mom has a _wand_?"

Severus grinned- "Yer- she does like, it's real gas."

Hermione patted the blanket and opened the lid and wondered how Severus Snape ever cultivated that silky intonation. Lily was sitting with her ankles folded and looked delighted that there was such a thing as a wand. Severus jerkily sat down across from Lily and shot a look at the basket.

Hermione proffered two sandwiches wrapped in paper towels out to the both of them, and Lily took it. Severus just held his hand up so that she could put it in his hand.

Lily asked, "Do you have your own wand?" unwrapping her sandwich.

Severus shook his head and followed suit. "Not yet, Mum's been saving up so I can get my own when I go to Hogwarts this year-"

"Hogwarts?" Lily asked brightly, "What a silly name- is that a school?" She took a bite of her sandwich.

He nodded, "They send the requirements by owl post but earlier if you request it- especially if you have to get it by muggle mail."

Lily's eyes narrowed. "You said that word earlier- you called my sister that. It doesn't sound very nice you know, and I know you weren't being very polite."

He looked at his sandwich, "It's just- a person who isn't magic. My old man is a muggle." He shrugged like a string twitched his shoulder up and down.

Lily looked narrowly at him, and Hermione said easily, "I hope you like your sandwich - our mum made the bread." She took a bite and watched as Severus began to devour his sandwich.

Hermione had hers out but set one half aside. Lily asked, "So, what kind of magic does your mum do? Did she go to Hogwarts?"

Severus, after he gulped down the sandwich explained Hogwarts and answered as many of Lily's questions as he could between crisps and before Hermione noted it was getting dark.

They came home early evening, as promised, to the radio running on her Da's show that he liked listening to as he sat in the living room. His face was a little grim and Hermione had caught just a gist of the Irish riots happening today. He turned it off when they came home and their mummy told them to wash up before the games, taking the picnic basket from them.

Hermione thought while she washed up, thoughtlessly agreeing enthusiastically with Lily about her excitement of everything that Snape told them. Her thoughts turned inward, calculating in order to cope with this new and strange way of being trapped. She should think of security for her family already, she didn't know how powerful Voldemort was or what was happening specifically during this time.

She didn't know if it was connected to any happenings in the Muggle world, but while putting on clean clothes in their room with Lily who was so excited to tell their parents that she had put on her shirt backwards, she certainly thought she should.

She followed her twin as she tore down the stairs.

Severus could be better, and today was a good start, but- she stopped on one of the steps, eyes widening as she considered the multitude of impacts she would be able to have. What if by insisting that Severus be exposed to muggles, to continuously battle his hatred that he would not be driven towards the Death Eaters?

If he wasn't driven to the Death Eaters, how would they get information from the inside in the coming war?

She leaned on the staircase banister. As she heard her Da ask what games the girls wanted to play that night and Mrs. Evans call from the kitchen "Jac, do you want coffee?"

"Yes dear! Lily, where's Hermione?"

Lily popped her head out of the living room looking straight at Hermione, "She's right here- what're you doing?" Hermione quickly met her down at the bottom and Lily giggled as their Da swooped around the corner and grabbed the both of them. Lily shouted a laugh from surprise and giddy joy.

"I was deciding on Trouble- for the game that I want to play." Hermione laughed but it was colored with her sense of dramatic irony in regards to her situation.

"Trouble, huh? You girls are enough trouble I think we should play Gin Rummy. Ha-ha! How was your day at the park?"

Lily explained things as only an in awe ten year old could, all about what Severus told them about there being a school for wizards and witches and it being the best school in wizarding England. That they would get a letter soon by owl or maybe they would get it by a Professor coming to their door. She told them that there were more than just them out there there was a whole world.

Her Da was genuinely interested, his face excited and both parents laughed in joy when they heard that there were others out there like their daughters and they could go learn to do great things. Concern dawned on her Mummys face when she asked "What about doing 'magic' though, isn't it bad to do it where other people can see? What should they think I wonder..." Petunia was listening wistfully, interested but pretending she was above it all. She nodded and said, "It's abnormal."

Her Da frowned and her Mummy said, "I'm more worried about what they'll do. You have to be careful girls. Sometimes different isn't good." Petunia certainly heard those words, nodding.

Their Da asked, "How did the Snape boy like his lunch?"

Lily looked at Hermione, but Hermione didn't know what to say either and preferred to let Lily take charge again.

"He liked the lunch a lot Da. Boy, he sure wolfed it down. He doesn't have very good manners." Lily said a little prissily.

Hermione set her piece down on the board and in order to clarify that the manners was just in regards to food, she stated, "I don't think he gets a lot of lunch." It was someone's turn to move on the board game Trouble that they were playing, but it didn't seem to matter.

Mr. Evans scratched his chin and looked at Mrs. Evans. "I see." Hermione could see that they were pitying the poor child in Spinner's End, a place they had warned them away from, across the river.

When they were tucked into bed that night her Mummy kissed her forehead and told her that she loved her and that she was so proud of them. Proud that they were gifted. She almost teared up, for her own parents, the Dr.'s, had such reservations about her world. Her Da made sure their blankets were tucked in tight around them and told them he was there for them, then he turned out the lights and said, "Good night my little Mabi fie, don't let the faeries nip at your noses."

Lily said after they were gone "I'm glad to be different." Hermione responded in the dark,"Yes."

She yawned "Do you think 'Tuney will go with Mummy to her fancy bakery tomorrow? I want to go to the park again, even if it's cold."

"Maybe." Hermione felt the love and comfort radiate out of her. "Maybe we should invite Severus to our birthday party."

Lily sleepily said, "Oh yes, let's ask tomorrow."

Her mind was exhausted but she found she could not sleep, so full of ideas and possibilities she drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

They weren't able to see Snape the next day, so they couldn't invite him to their birthday party they would have next Saturday, but their Da took the three girls to the zoo on the tram and told them that it was an early birthday present.

She found that it became easier every day she woke up as a child to pretend to be one. Startlingly easy, especially when people treated her as a child. She blended in and remained quiet when she was unsure of things that she shouldn't know in school, and stuck to Lily.

It was much easier as it was expected of the twins to be so close. Lily didn't notice anything amiss except a few times that Hermione was thinking especially hard about what she would do to make sure that certain things would happen.

Lily would snap her out of it by asking a certain question that had required a thoughtful answer, or a silly question that required a ridiculous one. The party was a little overwhelming since all the girls in the class and some of Petunias friends came over, and it was so exhausting she ended up taking a new book she had gotten and hidden away.

A girl named Emily found her accidently when she was looking for a place to escape and they curled up behind the coats in the closet with a reading light and hid till they heard parents come fetch the children away. Hermione felt as if it was a pity she didn't make a friend like Emily when she was in primary school.

It wasn't until long after their birthday that they were able to see Severus Snape again. They were allowed to go to the park on weekends when it wasn't rainy and cold out and they found Severus Snape waiting there under the tree that they first met him at, crouching as if he would have to start over again by spying.

Hermione smiled when Lily, pretending to not be as desperately interested as she was, stated, "Well, we're here. Please, continue to tell us more. I'd like to know whether there are any magical creatures."

Severus smiled his crooked smile and described in detail the wondrous and the horrible. Lily plopped down in front of Severus as he held out his finger. Hermione was amused to find that Severus Snape had a great dramatic flair for storytelling. If only because he came alive for magic.

She lay upon the grass and listened to Severus explain somethings and admit ignorance in others. Lily asked, "Aren't there good magical creatures Severus? They're not all dark are they?"

Severus paused, clearly not as thrilled with these, "Well, there are unicorns, or so I've read."

Lily's eyes grew so big they may have popped out. "Uni-Unicorns!" She gasped, "They're real? Oh my-" she whipped around to Hermione to share in her amazement "Unicorns are real!"

Severus snorted, but then smirked "Yes, the purest creatures to ever walk the earth," He said loftily, softly, then turned to her with a voice of affectation and a wry expression, "Their blood carries a curse, dark and horrible." Lily's face of hope and wonder was crestfallen.

Hermione, despite herself, giggled and said "Severus, you're horrible."

He was positively cheeky.

As Spring slowly came to full bloom, it was nearly every weekend that they went to the park to meet Snape.

Lily greeted him warmly, running right up to him and saying such things like, "Severus! I want to know if just anybody can do what we do!"

Lily was a fountain of questions, and Severus answered them with pride and a sense of joy at being needed. He explained that there was different kinds of magic, like potions and charms and he included that some people are just more adept at doing subjects like Transfiguration is more natural than Charms to some people. Lily a little worried at this revelation said, "Mummy and Da say that I'm good at all my subjects, but what if magical school isn't like … muggle school?" She said, the lilt of a question at the end verifying if she used the term muggle correctly.

Severus appeared to actually think about this briefly before saying "Your wand will help you be better at things that you're naturally gifted at I think."

Hermione added, perhaps a bit sharper than she meant to, "Even if something doesn't come naturally to you, you can work hard and succeed at it. People must work to be where they are," she halted her lecture abruptly when she saw that Lily and Snape were looking at her as if they were about to admonish her for not being cool 'groovy' or whatever kids these days said.

She quoted, "Well, like...we must run as fast as we can, just to stay in place. And if you wish to go anywhere you must run twice as fast as that." Looking at Lily with a pleading look on her face.

Thankfully, her twin got the reference to the childhood favorite. Lily moved on, demanding stories about great and powerful wizards. Severus compiled. Hermione had heard the tales before, but the she was worried that there was a little bit of a morbid twist to these tales he'd spin about the stories of wizards. They were entertaining, however. She found Snape to be quite clever, witty, and brilliant but certainly more than a little thorny and more than a bit dark.

Lily said, dazzled, "Where do you learn all of this from?"

He shrugged "Mostly my mother…" He trailed off as if he was going to include some information but thought better of it. Hermione looked at him thoughtfully, trying to figure out the best way to broach the subject when there was a call, "Evanses! Hey!" Lily turned to the voice, and said, "Oh! It's Clara and Patricia- Hallo Clara, hey Patty!" She called back and made a motion for Hermione and Snape to follow. Hermione was a little hesitant, she wasn't too sure about the girls. They seemed nice enough to her and her twin, but Hermione was a tad reminded of her previous childhood, when genetics hadn't been as kind and she had been more...awkward. They had been one of the reasons she had hid at her own birthday.

Severus seemed to have similar reservations and wrapped his overcoat around himself securely.

Their voices floated over to them, Lily clear and ringing out, "Yes, I am- Why?"

They tittered and threw sidelong glances at Severus. He sighed and turned to leave, Hermione reached out her hand on his shoulder and said, "You said you read from books too? Maybe...sometime you could bring them. Lily would like it too."

He tossed a sidelong glance back at Lily. "I'll try to bring some tomorrow." He shrugged her hand off and darted away, his overcoat making him look not unlike a bat. A laugh ripped out of her for the absurdity of the picture he made though it wasn't the pure childlike laughter out of recent habit.

She wished he would open up about his family.

Later, she wished she had never thought it.

When they met up with him the next day, he looked dour, pinched even. They came up to them by their regular spot next to the tree overhanging the creek and he muttered "Sorry, I couldn't bring a book."

Lily piqued, "Book? What book?"

Hermione said "I thought we could read a book on magic. School hasn't been very exciting recently." Lily turned towards Severus and said, "Don't be sorry, I like hearing you tell me about things anyway."

Hermione, Lily and Severus would sometimes just get into rambunctious swing set battles or perhaps end up playing tag or chase by just being perfectly silly but that day he winced when Lily punched him on the shoulder and snapped at her, waspishly saying, "Stop it."

Hermione watched carefully. Lily was getting irritated with Snape's tone with her, "What- don't be such a baby, I didn't hurt you."

Hermione interrupted, "No, but- Severus, did you get in trouble for trying to bring us the book?" Severus looked away and plucked at the grass.

Hermione looked at Lily with urging. They both scooched closer to him. Lily placed her arm on his arm and patted his hand. "You can tell us Severus."

Then it came pouring out, his voice tight with anger, determinedly looking down the grass he was furiously plucking out of the earth. How his Father doesn't like it when his mother talks about magic, how he doesn't like it when she asks him to do things or not to do things. He gets bossy, that he drinks and gets angry, and he's angry when he doesn't drink. That he doesn't like books and it makes him hateful. At the culmination of "I hate it, I hate him!" Tufts of grass came flying up out of the earth.

Lily flung her arms around Severus, and he became very still, unmoving. She said, voice thick with tears "Sev, oh- I hate him too. Come to dinner with us tonight, you don't have to go home right away. I feel bad- you were trying to do something nice for us!"

Hermione was angry. His mother was a witch! She just let herself be pushed around, let her son - her _child_ be hit? It didn't make sense. She could just take the child and leave him, surely there was some way that she could procure a job find a way to support herself, hide herself from the Father _with magic_ of all things?

Snape pushed Lily away. "No, I don't like _pity._ I'll be better one day, I'm going to be sorted into Slytherin, where the ambitious and clever go."

Lily, watched him, saddened he had pushed her away, but she asked "At Hogwarts? The school has houses... and Slytherin is one of them right?"

Hermione was quiet and listened to the fervor present in Snape's voice, "Yes, and that's where wizards go to become great." Hermione didn't dare challenge him on that, not even by saying that other wizards have become great in other houses.

She did say, "It's not pity." Lily supported her with whole hearted nodding and added, "Yes, Severus come to dinner with us."

He gave her a suspicious narrow look, tight mouthed and angry, so very similar to the man she called Professor Snape. "Don't _boss_ me."

Lily was taken aback, she had never been told no so vehemently except by her eldest sister. Hermione said, not to be cowed so, "We're just offering you a place to have dinner at if you didn't feel especially inclined to go home. We want you to come." Hermione gave a nudge to Lily. It took a little of Lily's convincing but eventually he succumbed simply to her sincerity.

Hermione smiled, pleased, and felt more than the love of a sister, but as a person that recognizes goodness and cherishes it.

It was almost painfully awkward to watch Severus skulk around in front of the house. Lily had went in to fetch their parents to the front door.

Of course, their Mummy had said yes, of course he could stay for dinner. She beckoned him over and when he slouched over nervously he didn't look into her face. She bequeathed him with a pat on the shoulder and said, "It's lovely to meet you Severus, I'm Mrs. Penelope Evans and this is Mr. Jac Evans. If you need _anything_ let us know." She placed her arm on his shoulder, and their Da said, "Come in, better wash up first. Lily n' Hermione will show you where the sink is at."

At the dinner table, Petunia stared at him with narrowed eyes and tight lips. She was looking at the woman's smock shirt he wore with his short jeans disdainfully. It was nerve wracking for Hermione to see him at the table with the overcoat still on. Hermione had jumped to help her mum with getting out all the dishes, and only vaguely alluded to why they had Snape over for dinner when she was asked.

Her Da drummed his fingers on the table and looked at the boy, "I have to thank you,"

Snape looked up at him startled that he was speaking to him, thanking him.

Carefully, he said "For what, sir?" a trace of fear an undercurrent in his voice.

Hermione entered the dining room with dishes and placed one in front of her Father.

"For looking out for my daughters, of course. They tell me you are a veritable font of information, Severus."

She placed one quickly in front of Petunia, and then hers and Lily's spot.

Severus darted his eyes downward. "I try, sir."

Her Da scratched his chin, "I like to think I can protect my girls, Severus, but the world is far wider than I know. I can tell you're a fierce sort- would you mind keeping an eye on them while I'm not there if you go ahead to that school of yours?"

Severus looked at him as if he had been given a gift he wasn't sure he deserved. He said, "Yes- I mean, no. I will, sir."

Hermione, taking pity on the direct moment after, smothered Petunias noise of disapproval with a scoff of her own, "Da, I think that we can take care of ourselves once we get learning. You didn't raise us to be ninnys." She placed the plate in front of Severus, catching the embarrassment on his face and pretending she didn't see it.

Lily entered, catching on, "Yes, not ninnys."

Severus, livining at Lily's bright presence, said, "They're named delicate flowers- certainly not ones, even if some of them like to think themselves as such." Hermione snorted and mirrored her Da's short burst of laughter. Snape looked too pleased with himself for his own comfort, and Lily playfully narrowed her eyes at him.

"Oh Ha- Ha," Her soft twin mocked, and dinner commenced amicably.

Hermione would sometimes go to the public library to gather books on the art of war, planning, previous battles in history, things to do to strengthen her defenses, help her strategy for the future. She gathered one of these once a week and switched out the covers with another book to avoid suspicion. She dallied at some point in the physics and experimental sciences section but she honestly couldn't find anything in the public access for understanding time.

Lily would come with her, but Hermione distracted her by usually convincing one of their school friends to come with them. They sometimes got books as well but she would place an order for a book that she found in the box with thousands of index cards in them to have it ready for her to pick up at her desk spot that they reserved. It was a definite hassle from the simplicity of the Hogwarts library, where she could take the books out of the library, but useful nonetheless.

Attracting unwanted attention however was another matter. Thankfully however, Lily was bright, curious, and so they were expected to be a bit precocious. Normal 10 year old girls, however, liked reading books about runaway boxcar children, or books by Judy Blume, not Sun Tzu.

Lily, spying this quiet investment of books that were certainly more adult, tried to help her out by mentioning her interests to their parents. She had sensed her twins frustration with the limited time at the library. One night over dinner, her Da looked at her and pointed to her with the end of his fork thoughtfully.

There was still a bit of chicken dangling from the tip, which attracted the disparaging attention of her mum, but before she could tell him to mind his manners he said, "Hermione, what is it that you are reading about war for? Are you worried about something?"

Hermione stilled, the delicious braised chicken with pine nuts and vegetables halfway to her mouth. She bought herself time and chewed thoughtfully. He pressed her by saying as gently as possible, "Lily mentioned the other day that maybe I should show you some books that I had for your interests, but I can't see that you'd get much out of them."

She chewed until it couldn't be chewed anymore, and said with an ounce of the conviction she felt, "I want to be a political activist when I grow up." And promptly stuck some more food in her mouth.

Her father pondered this for a while and her mother looked at her, "It's going to be really hard to do that duckie."

Hermione, determined tone in her voice said "I can change things- if I do it right."

She looked at her Da, Jac Evans, and saw that he may have asked another question, as was written in the quizzical lines around his eyes, but he smiled and said "Let's see if I can help with that."

Hermione Granger felt something defining relax into Hermione Evans. In just those few words of unconditional support for the burgeoning of this life, she felt both of her worlds colliding, falling upright together.

* * *

 **Notes:** Attempted use of 1970's slang.

Yes, they were supposed to have met Severus when they were nine, but Hermione doesn't know this. Hermione doesn't know a lot of things.

Listened to "Any Other Name" by Thomas Newman.

1 _mabi fi:_ My babies

2 _del_ : Sweet in being young

Caru: Family love


	3. 0: I : 2 : Adrift

**Act Parallel I: Lost**

 _:Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers,_

 _but to be fearless in facing them._

 _Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain, but_

 _for the heart to conquer it:_

Rabindranath Tagore

In which the present is shattered and the future unconstant.

 _Chapter 2: Adrift_

* * *

Draco was alive. He felt faint- as if he had gone too long pouring energy into a spell or as if he was recovering from his most rigorous dueling training.

He opened his eyes. He was nauseous from spinning in blackness, like after he drank too much and then laid down too early in sleep.

After a moment of stunned absorption, he saw the familiar crenellations of his manor. His attention darted across the soft grey walls, up to the ceiling where the characteristic motif of white peacocks were embossed against a pale milky green, the rich dark wood of the furniture drawing his gaze into focus around eye level. Out of habit he rested his eyes, terrified, on the door.

He lay there for a few seconds, unwilling to move. His mind racing through options. His heart rate soared, but he could not feel it in his chest. It was then, he realized, that he did not feel gravity or the weight of his own body.

He forgot how to rise from bed as he naturally did, but attempted to right himself. The texture of the hardwood floor beneath the lush carpet was more of a memory of how it should feel, unbidden into his mind. He looked at his hands. Appearing solid, they were normal as they had been at the grove, absent of dirt and grime.

He made a sound in his throat for the wrongness of his feeling, the place that he was in, the pale morning light petaling the room.

He closed his eyes. Spinning returned but there was a flash of memory as Hermione fractaled out of existence, the deep throated raw scream of Potter as he reached out for his friend. Then Potter was turning to him, horror on his face. Draco could only remember fading.

A voice from behind him, a woman's voice plucked at his spine. "Draco- work, so early?" His eyes opened too wide. Chills and fear ran through him, muscles that would have usually tensed—ghosted.

He would not glance back—but he said, "Yes, obviously." He looked towards the nightstand dresser, his familiar wand stand atop it, and saw a new wand. He did not look at the woman in the bed. He did not want to.

He beckoned the wand and felt a tug at his magic. He pulled with a fierce concentration and mentally cast the words. It snugly fit into his palm and was warm there. He did not remember it. It remembered him.

He could remember nothing.

He did not know why.

He was afraid.

After summoning and putting on the things that he had to wear before he started moving - avoiding looking at whoever was in his bed, he swirled them around his body and was out the door as he began to button and his robes.

He tried to land his feet as firmly as he could but somehow it was as if he was drifting through his march to the office- a ghost on its way to the execution room.

 **~8~8~8~8~8~8~**

Draco couldn't remember if he was walking correctly. Things too long left after running, hiding, fighting- but his body felt too loose, too light and he tried to move as other people did.

~8~8~

He couldn't imagine the circumstances that must have transpired for the office doors to open for him-as if he were their master- but it was clear he would have to run before he knew how to walk.

~8~8~

He sat down and then resolutely decided that you couldn't find something you weren't sure had even existed in the first place.

~8~8~

He didn't want to look at any of them but neither did he wish to be caught unaware. It began to settle on him that it wasn't his skill at avoiding eye contact that made him successful. As much as he tried, it was _their_ awareness that averted their eyes and _they_ parted before him like water.

~8~8~

Despite the overtures of decoration, the regalia of color, the ministry didn't feel any different. Indeed office workers were just as irritable and focused on completing their paperwork on time.

~8~8~

It kept coming back to him, through the awkwardness of simple transactions and interactions, an oppressive weight of momentum moving forward was due to a profound undertow of injustice skimming below the surface of progresses wake.

~8~8~

Draco Malfoy was Lord Malfoy. He was shown the expected way with deference. His mere presence was enough to send the meek to fetch the appropriate personages and set the higher offices to the edges of their desks in grevious concern. Draco didn't know whether the tense questions about His Lord's preferences were in reference to him.

 **~8~8~8~8~8~8~**

Harry was alone.  
The trees blackened bark  
Was empty as he.

Laying alone in  
the grove, he stared  
without seeing stars.

The stars were cold,  
Unforgiving or giving  
Stones grey with blood.

Harry knew he would  
die. Alone. Again. Again.  
Now, he could not sleep.


	4. 1: I : 3 : Change

**Act I: Childhood**

 _ **:.**_ _People are trapped in history, and history is trapped in them.:_ James A. Baldwin

In which the rogue believes the cave dark to be ubiquitous, and the gleam to be treasure.

 _Chapter 3: Change_

* * *

Hermione concluded she missed something. There seemed to be nothing she could affect in the present. She possessed no connections to the magical world other than Severus, who didn't necessarily provide her with ample room to connect with wizards who may be in more powerful positions in the future. She was, effectively, eleven years old.

She huffed. This couldn't possibly have been the result of six ancient artifacts and three mythic beings.

It was late May. The spring time rainy season was upon the Evans girls, and so they were ensconced up in their room. The rooftops were as grey as the sky was cloudy. Silver lights broke through to shine on a sooty town top.

The smokestack, she thought with some amount of gratitude, was not in direct line of sight from where she was leaning against the reading nook window. She appreciated the blank canvas onto which she could project her thoughts, but found that it wasn't helpful to keep her momentum burning.

She was comfortable enough, seated on round pillows matching the decor of their room. The space didn't lend itself to serious study, but she did not have any access to serious study materials. She sighed, and conceded that at least she was experimenting.

She had to juggle her non magical homework time with Lily quite carefully. In the limited time she had away from Lily, she was able to do her other homework. She had been thinking about the best way for her to get better at wandless magic. She had struggled with trying small things before, and had thus resorted to doing arithmancy equations to discern what may be available for her in terms of magic, mostly as a source of comfort but there were a few promising theoretical developments.

It had begun from something that Severus had mentioned in his slew of explanations to Lily- which had mainly highlighted Dementors, of course. He had mentioned something about people misusing magic, and that the Ministry of Magic had its fingers in other people's business because of it.

She remembered that Harry had used magic as a child, and it was never mentioned in the Wizengamot trial. It would have certainly been brought up for him causing mayhem with a giant snake as an eleven year old. Surely, if they were looking for proof to support their claims they would have- as they had used the incident with his Aunt Marge.

Wandless magic was going to be a necessity. If she was ever in a position where her wand was taken away from her, it could _not_ become a liability. She remembered being helpless under Bellatrix Lestrange, and shuddered. Her mood darkened, but it was difficult for her to remember certain instances. Remembering was like gloss sliding over glass.

Even when the Ministry was guilty of only stupidity and fear, the trials and conflicts Harry had with the ruling body of wizards were due to inconvenience at best, and avoiding superfluously fatalities at worst. Everything mentioned in the trial he had done was only _after_ he was in possession of his wand.

Did that mean that the wand and the wizard had a bond which was then tied to the Ministry?

 _She_ never had gotten any warnings when she was practicing her spells before Hogwarts with her newly acquired wand. She was never advised otherwise when she cast spells on the train.

Or did the wand itself produce a signature that the Ministry could read, which would subsequently imply that before one acquired a wand they could perform any kind of magic?

From _Hogwarts: A History_ she understood that there was a quill and book (of which was not well understood). It was widely accepted to be accurate at recording and recognizing underage magic. In the British Isles, at least, there was a universal monitoring system for underage magic- but The Trace's source or how it worked wasn't _public_ knowledge.

Magic, however much used by the twins in secret during summer, had never sparked punitive measures from the Ministry.

With Harry- _always._ That fiasco with Dobby in second year- The Trace couldn't stem from the child themselves or the Ministry would never had made that mistake.

What kind of magic would Apparition be recorded as? It seemed that some could detect Apparition, but if Ministry officials could pinpoint location with it, then certainly they would have been found much sooner.

Hermione had been thinking if she needed to Apparate anywhere, it would need to be now. She had no resources for knowledge about- well, she having difficulty coming up with specific magical knowledge but she would have to forge all of her connections the moment she got to the entrance of Diagon Alley. That wouldn't happen until late June or July.

Unless she suddenly: mastered wandless magic; was able to control it enough for Apparition; Apparated in the dead of the night; marched on to Hogwarts grounds, and found the only person that she thought might remotely believe her.

Some part of her wanted to just seek an adults help, let someone else continue- She drew a firm line in her head and told herself to pull out of that circle of thought and nudged herself into the task set before her.

She wanted to see what it was she was missing and know for certain what she was doing here and why.

She breathed deeply and let it out slowly. It had also not escaped her notice that it was difficult for her to gather momentum, like she was weighted down by something. Her attention span was well above average for a child her age, but it seemed easy for her to tip into adolescence.

Seeing it start to drizzle outside, she leaned forward and opened the window.

She watched as the cool damp blanketed the air. She sighed, letting the mist kiss her face.

If things were meant to happen, they would happen, despite any of her best efforts or what she intended. Except in the matters that she could alter due to her mere presence in this time and space.

It came to her like water boiling, all at once simmering then bursting into hot air. Replaying the process and where it may have gone wrong. It may have been intention, written into each grain of sand she charmed, or the words she chose. Suddenly it was like she couldn't breathe.

 _Intention_ within the confines of her words.

She was specific, certainly, but her intention was to save the outcome of the war, to do whatever it took to protect Harry, to make everything better. She choked as realization dawned on her.

The three Pinnacles, the three Avatars of Moira had taken _intent,_ the frame of her words, not the spell _designation_ but the raw power behind it and placed it to where, in _**her**_ _perceptible_ world written in the boundaries of her words. By that definition, where she was now made everything better.

In her intent to save Harry, to have him not be sacrificed in vain, she would give up everything so that he would not die in martyrdom. That he would continue to live after so much had been so put upon him.

"That's why," She whispered, muttering "That's why, I'm _close_ - _" to his mother._ The world focal point shifted because it was in name of … Her throat tightened with waves of emotion, and she sat back down, _Harry-_ "oh- no, no"- _not sent back, woven back, re-braided- she_ _ **was**_ _this person now._

She caught herself and realised - time may still continue alternately elsewhere. There's rules- of course there's rules, there's always _rules,_ but those of creation and the discardment of energy and dispositioned space- they can't be broken. She assured herself. She was created as herself for another place, another time that put her where her intentions lay.

She and Lily may be as different as the flowers they were named for, but they were the same in intent of protection for Harry. She was placed here, she was placed for this time because it was the time in which the war began to rise, when the people who defined her world were affected. The Death Eaters were a creeping shadow, Voldemort had declared himself Lord. This is when the War _began_.

Happenstance was never high on Hermione's list for explaining anything, but there was just a clean sensation soaring through her heart that she just _knew._ Connections defined by equations but created by the forces that pressed magic into the world and it was matriculating into some kind of sense.

Her fingers itched and she rolled her head back in exasperation- access to the wizarding world could not happen fast enough. Conflicting advice ran through her head. She paused, looking around her.

All she needed was a good opportunity and better use of what she had available to her.

An opportunity...the family was going to go to see a film, _The Aristocats,_ of all things, that was advertised to come out. Lily had begged to see it and of course, their mummy had given in. She had days to test her wandless magic in secret. If she could sneak her purpose past Lily- Lily was naturally using wandless magic. Hermione wasn't used to the flow and ebb of magic streaming lightly through her.

Lily however, didn't have the training on how to manipulate and direct the forces of magic. So, it didn't inhibit the stream of magic that poured out of her everytime she held Hermione's hand.

Wandless magic was difficult for adult wizards to master, but for a child it was more accessible. Hermione remembered her first experience. When she found that she could do some magic it was a secret burning joy- a nightlight under the covers. Her parents hadn't known and she hadn't told them.

To do any large tests- like Apparition, she would need to be completely alone. She chanced a glance over to Lily who had fallen asleep studying her history book. There wasn't any way for her to leave by muggle transportation.

There was … one way. She could pretend to be sick and then could leave, but she was sure that she'd be actually sick by the end of evening.

* * *

Hermione suggested to Lily that they should see what they could do together. She thought it would be a fun game to take turns moving things, like levitation. Lily preferred animation.

Hermione was attentive. When Lily held her hand to charm objects, for that is what the result amounted to, Hermione could feel it slip through and around her. When Hermione attempted to copy Lily's charm - the _leviosa_ without _leviosa_ , she struggled. She huffed and gritted her teeth, and tsked after every failed attempt. Lily was exceedingly patient with her, but did keep saying things like 'I don't understand why you can't, just - do it!'

Hermione heaved a heavy sigh and asked Lily "What does that mean- how are you just doing it, what is it that is happening when you're making the decision?"

Lily didn't have much of an answer, but her shrugs were getting more emphatic.

Lily preferred to make flowers bloom and move. She giggled, her hand over her mouth as they hid in various places in the house. Hermione just bit her lip.

* * *

On the third day, Hermione, suffering a headache and a burning feeling from being on the verge of tears, was trying to deal with stinging pride and desperation.

It took hours. For a stem to bend.

Lily threw her arms around her neck.

She whispered "Don't worry - it will be fine. You'll eventually get it."

Hermione squeezed her back and let herself cry a little.

Lily said "Maybe we can ask Sev?" Hermione shook her head.

Lily said wistfully, "Oh-" she moved away and plucked at her hands now resting on their knees.

Hermione just said "I want to do this on...on our own. -" She searched for some justification. "Severus has magic books and his mum if he needs help. We're going to go and we're going to have to figure things out by ourselves."

Lily looked nervous suddenly and looked at her hands. "I just think about how beautiful it is and-" she shrugged again. "I don't even know what we may possibly be learning- I mean how can magic ever be like _school_? Sev said incantations, but he says his mom doesn't say much."

Hermione looked down at their hands- she wanted to perform magic but Lily was talking more about visualisation. She blinked. She wondered…

Her wand had acted as a focus before, a channel. She needed something else as a focus and more strongly _intend_ for something to happen. Her voice, breaking a little in a whisper, "One more time Lily. Help me." Lily furrowed her eyebrows reluctantly but stayed her hand.

Hermione picked up the flower. Lily's magic bumped hers as if a heavier object displaced in the water, allowing it to roll out. Hermione focused past the minor headache and saw the flower open.

Lily squealed and laughed- "You did it!"

Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and smiled a little at the shy blossom opening.

She resolved to take a nap and try again later when Lily was sleeping. Her sister was starting to become distressed with her sisters obvious stress.

* * *

Hermione reached for the flower in the glass of water by her bed when the moon lit her room in a bright enough dim for her to see by. Lily was breathing softly in the other bed, fast asleep.

Focusing an image of visualisation perfectly of the flower closing she then reached for that familiar intent that came with her wand. She also allowed the love and joy of Lily's giggles, her pleasure at seeing her sister do the same trick to fill her mind.

The ease with which she used her wand swept in, but she pushed past it. It was like reaching into a hole and looking for water- she began to feel unbalanced as if she over extended herself with nothing there and she tensed up. She breathed and allowed herself to drop.

What happened next was something that she would only later be able to rationalise as the difference of turning on the tap water and pumping water from a well.

The flower closed. She smiled.

Immediately drained, she was just able to place the flower back on her bedside before falling asleep.

* * *

A bright clear day dawned on Lily, Hermione and Petunia baking in the kitchen with their Mummy. The day couldn't get much better, as perfectly charming Saturdays went. It was their parents anniversary, and the couple would be going away for the evening to a romantic dinner and show that their Da had sworn them into secrecy about. He had asked their opinion on what kind of show their mother would have liked and the three girls were once more, united in cahoots for this day.

The refound camaraderie was made all the more exciting when they were told they would be left alone with Petunia for the evening. Petunia was old enough now to watch over all of them and this summer was going to be free from babysitters.

They were experimenting with macaroons, lemon meringue and eclairs, and were planning on passing them out to friendly neighbors and some of their friend's houses. It was quite a majestic feat, Hermione thought as she watched their Mummy instruct her daughters with expert precision and a wondrous intuition regarding the recipes. Their Da had gone out for a leisurely stroll and had come back with a riotous bouquet of Penelope's, pink and white Petunias, Star Lilies and Hermione Roses. The basket pot was huge and was received with many ooh's and ahhs' from his girls.

They had a light brunch since much of the morning had been spent sampling from the baked goods. It was then the small box, which they had added their names on, appeared in their Da's hand.

After a great exclamation of joy from their Mummy the girls were excused from cleaning duty and sent to the park. Hermione and Lily practically skipped all the way there. She smiled with a secretive adult edge to her amusement as to why they were so cheerfully dismissed.

Petunia was finally hanging out with them. It had been some time, after the Snape upset and that _one_ unfortunate incident. To be fair, Lily and Hermione had been minding their own business when that foul girl came in.

Once again they took turns pushing each other on the swings. It had continued on genially, the three sisters giggling often and talking as friends. Hermione was so pleased that Lily and Petunia seemed to be getting along that she had hardly thought of anything else.

It was almost time for a late lunch when a question made by Lily switched the carefree mood.

"I wonder if they have swings at Hogwarts or if wizards and witches entertain themselves differently."

Petunia ceased to push Lily. "That Snape boy has been telling lies." Petunia grabbed both of the chains on their swings. She continued, hissing, "He's creepy, and nasty and Hogwarts doesn't exist. Stop filling your head with fool thoughts."

Lily pressed her lips together and looked extremely disappointed. Hermione looked at Petunia and realized that she had let her eldest sister fester out of a concern for the larger picture and appearing as a child.

Hermione realized Petunia wasn't going to let the twins have this wonderful dream if it meant she couldn't have it as well. She was still young and very much in love with the dreams that her parents had raised her on. It was a harsh choice of reality that Petunia was faced with.

Hermione didn't know what to do. She felt a little stupid. She had been spending all her time learning strategies of war, influence, and economic finance when she should have been reading about the psychology of children.

Petunia continued, encouraged by the doleful looks "And you better stop using your weird little tricks on my friends! Amber couldn't speak right for three days. Kept saying everything backwards till she was sent to a specialty speech therapist!"

Hermione had the unnerving feeling that she felt someone near her. Suddenly, Snape had materialized out of the shrubbery on the incline that he had been watching them from. It was their usual meeting place before they went to hang out near the thicket. He was next to them instantly, his overcoat on, making him appear especially odd and out of place.

"You think you can tell them what they can and can't do." Severus appeared like a little dark cloud, and his voice was quick and acidic. Hermione noticed that it distinctly lacked the measure and performance quality of adult Snape. It still had the rough Spinners End lilt but it still cut well.

Petunia turned her nose up at him and said, "Rough, low town lowlives shouldn't go sneaking up on people." Petunia, turned tail and ran before he could retaliate or Hermione could think to say anything at all. Lily looked at Hermione with wounded eyes.

Hermione saw Harry's saddened eyes, hurt by the world and by the hurt of others. She couldn't immediately comfort Lily and tell her with absolute confidence that they really were going to get to go to Hogwarts and that Severus was telling the truth.

Severus skulked up to Lily, but she got up off the swings despondently and headed to their grove, passing by Severus. He watched her greedily as Petunia ran off and Lily, defeated, went to their spot.

Hermione was irritated with Severus. Severus looked at Hermione who, jumped up from her swing and said "Severus, it is ridiculous that you spy on us- you need to come up and talk to us like proper people."

She could see his body tense through the heavy overcoat. Severus, said caustically "Your _muggle_ sister doesn't seem to think so."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and stomped off after Lily, tossing back out, "That doesn't matter, does it?"

The boy ducked his down his head and sidled up to her, his eyes fierce. "Muggles don't understand- us, magic. They don't accept what we are."

Hermione stopped and looked at him. He stepped a few feet forward and turned to her, his black eyes dark, eyebrows drawn. The vision of the man that he was later in his life drifted in front of her, draped in black, resisting sunlight.

Hermione, a challenge bit between her lips, stayed silent. She passed him towards where Lily was heading down to the thicket. She picked her way through the plants and trees and rocks and things, and sat down next to her sister.

Severus chose the seat on the other side of Lily. They sat for a while listening to the sound of the water and the small amount of wildlife. The dappled green of the trees provided a quiet kind of comfort.

Severus broke the silence "If you're worried about your sister being upset with you, don't be. You don't have to listen to her, only other witches and wizards."

Lily said in a high kind of melancholic voice, "We did do magic, though. Aren't there rules for that kind of thing? Who is in charge of wizards?"

Severus took off his overcoat, as he settled in, revealing the smock he had always worn. He went into a more detailed explanation of the Ministry of Magic.

Lily, suddenly worried, said, "But we've used magic,"

Hermione crossed her arms and looked at Severus, "Yes, but they won't put children in Azkaban- a _prison_ \- for using underage magic."

He nodded importantly, "You go on careful like once they start training you with your wands."

Lily picked up a twig, and Hermione receded into her thoughts once again for wandless magic. She was brought back out by the way that Snape admired Lily's red cascading hair as she waved the twig around.

Lily suddenly twisted around to him and looked at him intensely. "Are you sure it's real? All of it? Hogwarts- it's not a joke? Petunia said you're lying and there isn't a Hogwarts. It is real, isn't it?"

He was fervent, "It's real for us. We'll get _our_ letters."

Lily whispered, relief on her face "Really?"

"Definitely." Severus was brimming with confidence, and Hermione was struck with the same sensation that Harry had tried to express to her in the memory he had witnessed. That though he was so terribly unkempt he managed to impress a gravity of the future.

Excited once more, Lily inquired "Will it really come by owl?"

"Normally, but you're both Muggleborn," Severus explained patiently, "So, someone from the school will have to come to explain to your parents."

"Does it make a difference, being Muggleborn?" Lily asked cautiously, and Hermione noticed that he hesitated. She watched him closely. He had to know. There had to have been something that he heard in his mother's voice, in the lines of the books or- something was causing conflict.

It was clear in some books that they spoke of the disadvantages of Muggleborns but nothing in the books that she had read in her time that were commonly issued had grand prejudice against muggleborns. They certainly weren't mentioned as often, but she had thought that was a connectivity issue.

Severus said, "No, it doesn't make any difference."

"Good," Lily said, relaxing visibly. Hermione hadn't known Lily was that concerned about it, but she supposed it was because Hermione had lost her original sense of trepidation and never had it to the extent that Lily would. In the Granger family it was always understood that one worked towards things that weren't directly gifted to them and worked to keep them. It was another distinction between her and Lily that she hadn't managed to impress upon her twin.

Severus said, "You've got loads of magic, I saw that. All that time I was watching you." Hermione thought that it was interesting, that that was the defense he gave to himself for whatever was causing the turmoil.

Hermione stopped herself from asking if he thought that in general muggle borns had inferior magic, and where he had understood that from.

Lily, her eyes still rather distant, asked Severus, "How are things at home?"

Severus looked away, glumly, his jaw tightening a crease appearing between his eyes. She was trying to make a connection with Severus' unhappiness at his house with their own tense situation.

"Fine."

Hermione doubted that.

So did Lily, as she clarified. "They're not arguing anymore?"

Hermione privately thought that she wouldn't call it arguing.

"Oh yes, they're arguing. It won't be long before I'm gone." Severus said darkly.

Hermione had looked into the laws regarding child abuse, but it wouldn't do for someone with Severus disposition and abilities to be placed with a Muggle family in foster care. She didn't think that his mother would have allowed it besides, and she didn't have any access to wizarding laws about removing children from their abusive parents.

The laws currently had just gotten to the point where there was some form of such protections in each authority- but the committee was far off, ineffective, and there was nothing that could be done to launch an investigation. She would look into it later, but she would have to convince Severus first to agree.

Lily thinking of their Da who was always so pleasantly surprised when he could hear what they could do, asked, "Doesn't your Dad like magic?"

"He doesn't like anything much."

Lily was quiet, and Hermione remained silent. She would not pity this boy, she thought firmly. Severus Snape would not appreciate it, and pity would do nothing to change the circumstances.

"Severus?" Lily asked, attempting to change the subject.

Severus mouth twisted in a small smile, "Yeah?"

"Tell me about Dementors again." Hermione and Lily both knew that the dark creatures had fascinated Severus and he was particularly fond of spooking the girls with them.

He was kind though, and knew how much it had at first bothered Lily.

So, he asked pointedly "What d'you want to know about them for?"

Hermione thought that she felt eyes on her and looked sharply around for movement, she saw shadows move as if something was coming up behind them. She whipped around and stood, Petunia lost her footing and stumbled into the clearing where they were sprawled out.

"Tuney!" Lily cried happily, but Severus jumped up with Hermione and shouted "Who's spying now! What do you want?"

Alarmed and gasping Petunia lit upon Severus uncovered shirt and said just to be cruel "What is it that you're wearing anyway? Your mum's blouse?"

There was a sharp crack and Hermione felt the branch of the low hanging tree fall. Before she could think _wingardium leviosa_ it struck Petunia and her blue eyes welled up in tears and she ran off.

Lily glared at Severus accusingly with her mouth open in disbelief. Hermione jumped in, "Even if he did it Lily, it wasn't his fault. It's just emotions."

Lily looked at her and said meaningfully, "'Tuney's gotten _hurt_." Hermione cast a glance at him. He looked at a loss, but his body language was still tense, still angry.

Hermione held out her hand and said to Lily, "Let's go after her and see if we can help her. She was probably getting us for lunch." They ran off in the thicket and left Severus behind them.

* * *

Petunia had been coming to fetch them for lunch, they found her crying at a bus stop, and she shrieked at them to leave her alone. Lily pleaded with her. "Severus didn't mean to do it, 'Tuney! He was just upset!"

"When I'm upset things don't go exploding into people's faces and cracking their heads open." Petunia was being a little dramatic, but Hermione understood. It was terrifying to be so powerless, but Hermione didn't know how to say that it didn't matter, wizards were scared of other wizards too. Wincing, she didn't think that would help. All she needed to do was to show their sister they wanted to help her, that they could be good to her.

Hermione blurted, "But maybe we can heal you 'Tuney." Petunia jumped away.

"Don't you _touch_ me!"

Hermione decided she would see if she couldn't heal her whilst she was sleeping, but Petunia was slowly drifting further away the more Hermione tried to hold on.

Hermione tried to be as comforting as possible "Petunia, just because you don't have magical gifts doesn't mean that we can't help your life become more magical. You don't have to cut us off, shut us out."

Petunia, rubbed her eyes. Her voice clogged up with the tightness of her voice as she yelled at them "You think you're so special, so wonderful that you can just be around and make everything perfect and lovely and gifted? Well you can't! You're _abnormal,_ not extraordinary! Leave me alone!"

Their evening of fun and games with their sisters came to an abrupt end and drawn out close. The twins spent the evening subdued and Hermione thought once more about the small changes that rippled out to the unseen and unknown.

* * *

Spring heated into summer, and the girls spent most of their schooless days with different friends. Their parents were at work during the days so they were stuck with Petunia alternately bossing them around to do chores and ignoring them completely.

Once more, Hermione was trying to think. She had rejoiced when success first fluttered her heart, but she had immediately chastised herself. Wandless magic was a small and necessary victory and she must think of the next step.

A hand waved in front of her face. Hermione startled back, squeaking. So much for her warforged reflexes.

Lily popped into view, giggling. "'Mione, you've been sighin' all day. It's giving me the jitters."

Hermione, her tone forcibly light, said, "Sorry, I've been thinking."

Lily said wistfully "Oh, I so wish Petunia would come roller bootin' with us." Her twin was under the impression that she shared in the heaviest of emotional burdens regarding their sister.

Petunia had been more evasive than bossy as of late. Their mummy said that she was getting 'older.'

Her entirely distant relationship with her sisters was explained away as natural by Mr. and Mrs. Evans. Especially after the incident with Severus. It seemed, the more that they were with 'the Snape boy', the more Petunia soured.

Hermione and Lily had been more friendly to some of the girls at their school- more or less because of Lily. It also helped that Hermione had become distinctly more confident since the week of their birthday, in small ways, nothing too abnormal for an eleven year old. She did not have much time to waste and was not going to spend any of it being shy, which in some cases Lily was guilty of.

"I'm sorry, what?" Hermione didn't understand at first. Lily tilted her head and looked at Hermione disapprovingly.

"I said-"

"That you wished Petunia would er- hang with us more or go roller-" Hermione tsked at the term. "I mean, rollerbootin' with us."

Lily sighed, "Yes, something's been phoney recently, can't you tell? She used to be so nice to us and now… well,"

Lily looked over at the window they had facing the street out in front. Petunia was walking up the street with a girl whose brown hair was styled in a terrible full feathered pouf that ate most of her forehead. Petunias blonde hair was curled up on either side like a silly butterfly and both girls were walking with welly's and clear umbrellas.

Petunia and Amber had just come from the house of a new friend, whom Petunia met at the uptown school. They had gotten their hair done by one another in the most fashionable styles.

"Well, of course." Hermione said.

Lily looked back at Hermione. Hermione who had traded her notebook, surreptitiously putting it under her and then stuck her nose back into her borrowed books, one of their Father's books ' _Having Influence and Where to Place it'_.

Lily crossed her arms on top Hermione's knees and put her chin in her hands. "It's more than the branch. If we try again to be friends, maybe-"

Feeling the familiar bright green eyes on her, quite puppyish, Hermione glanced up at her and said, "Absolutely not."

Lily pleaded. "Jus' for a little while."

Hermione turned the page back to where it explained risk analysis process because her sisters beggaring desire was so absurd it made her lose track. "No! I dislike how much effort it takes to be groovy around Amber- she's such a... laker."

Lily who looked like she was holding in giggles. Hermione couldn't help but snicker as she watched Lily's cheeks grow big with holding in laughter. Lily knew that Hermione was largely against slang, and Lily used it in excess to prod her into silliness. That the 'prim rose' would be so acidic in the slang she used was just the burst of humor to blow the torpor of sighs away.

They burst out laughing, knowing exactly why Amber hated entering the house of the "Freaky deaky sisters of Petunia." Accidental magic guilt aside for a particularly sneering comment made by Amber, the giggle fest covered up some of the hurt they felt at their big sisters reticence.

Hermione would have to find some way to woo Petunia over if she wanted to save her from the dreadful rejection of anything that wasn't normal.

The laughter trailed off and Hermione put her book away, seeing the wistful look come across Lily's face again.

"Let's go and see if we can't ring up Emily and Regina?" Hermione offered. It was easy to let Lily take the lead in conversations and the games that they played with their muggle girl friends. Besides, she quite liked them. Lily decided it was a fine idea, but it was left unsaid that they would have rather had their oldest sister with them once more.

* * *

The tension between Petunia and the twins continued. They found their things thrown away if it was left out. Petunia immediately would tattle to tell their Mummy that the girls hadn't cleaned something or done a chore. She was catty, but if any of them had mentioned the incident of the falling branch to their parents, their parents hadn't indicated anything of the kind.

Hermione was getting more and more anxious as the time in which their letter was supposed to arrive approached. She had begun her research on psychology, which hadn't done much in helping her anxiety. She considered it a soft science. She nibbled on the tip of her pen as she stared down at the girls Flower Power journal she was writing in, sitting in her regular reading window in her bedroom.

She would watch Severus display certain signs of trouble at home in playing with Lily, and certain social skills that were absent. It was with some amount of possessiveness that he treated Lily, and he would be snappish if confronted with something personal by either of them.

The advice she found was to practice listening while reserving judgment, to being understanding of conflicting emotions. His desperate desire to avoid attention and gain it tore him back and forth often until the point that he would get upset with himself and take it out on them.

She wasn't sure she was gifted at applying anything she found on child psychology. She tapped the pen against her teeth and gave up for now.

She was developing the Arithmancy equations that seemed promising and was now layering in possible rune combinations. A timeline with possible ways to get to Diagon Alley and access resources was on the other page. The list of things she needed to do took up a good portion of the first half of the notebook, the list of things she could start at Hogwarts highlighted.

She also had a page that kept track of her theories with The Trace but that hadn't been added to in days.

It was worrisome, because she felt as if she could direct affairs, yet she still didn't have all the pieces to her puzzle to be confident in doing so. Affecting time in such a way was dangerous. Teetering on the edge of action and inaction, she held herself back in most circumstances where she would have attracted attention with her most natural action. She justified any domino effects by her understanding that just by being here she altered outcomes and so she would not rely too heavily on this reasoning.

She found herself debating how much of things were nature and happenstance as she plotted out different scenarios.

* * *

She placed a seed into her elder sister's mind the day of the cinema. Hermione alluded to having a headache, but she made sure Petunia know she still wanted to go to the theatre. It was all Petunia had to do to suggest that Hermione stay home, if she was in the same mind set that Hermione predicted she'd be in.

At first she felt guilt claw around in her belly, but she reminded herself that she was a grown witch with a purpose, and had certain tasks to complete under duress. Like the fact she had a growing list of tasks, ideas, and things to research and no-where to begin. She reasoned that if she _knew_ that Petunia was going to tell their mum out of either childish jealousy or an elder sisters concern it wasn't really like she was manipulating her terribly.

It wasn't until almost the very last five minutes where everyone was putting on their shoes and gathering things to place into their purses that she backed out of going, and told her Mum that she didn't want to disappoint the other girls with depriving them of their time with Mum and Da but she should go to sleep because she wasn't feeling very well. Petunia assisted as expected, telling them Hermione really did have a headache.

Hermione tilted her head down, allowing her auburn curls to cover her face. She feigned a despondent complacency while her heart was beat loud enough for her to think that it could be detected. She hoped that she was convincing enough. She forced her hands apart from each other so they could be limp.

For her lies, she received a kiss on the head and she sighed in relief, breathing in the comfort of the light floral scent her mummy left. Her mum bid her to feel better and followed her Da and her sisters out.

She waited anxiously until her family had left the front of their house, watching from her window. Lily turned up to her and waved sadly in the sunset. Lily had been excited because kitties were cute and a whole movie about cats seemed to be just the grooviest.

Guilt seeped into her again. This is exactly what Dumbledore had done. Had excused himself of doing. The same exact rationale. He had manipulated people, betraying them by hiding the truth, and now she was doing the same.

She placed her hand to her mouth and felt her heart drop.

They were walking to the nearest stop to the train that would take them directly into West Down where the movie theatre was located. She watched them go, and wavered amidst conflict within her. She hadn't written or gone to Dumbledore because ultimately she felt he had made the wrong decisions by manipulating people.

Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head. She didn't want to slip down that slope. She promised herself she would think much more carefully about casually manipulating people like that.

She opened her eyes, looking at the small reflection in the window pane she felt as if she could see Harry looking back at her. She'd avoid it, like the plague.

She got up stood on her side of the room and then shook everything else off. She had reasoned against attempting Apparition. It was too dangerous if she had splinched herself.

Gathering her notebook, a pen that wasn't exceedingly weak if she pressed too hard or wrote too fast, some muggle money, she placed them all in a book bag. She put her longest dress with the droopiest waist and her mummys cardigan on. And, thinking of all the old women she had seen, pinned a costume jewel to the cardigan.

The second part of her plan was where she would have some trouble. After all, wands were used in abundance for a reason. It took much energy and a good deal of concentration to do transfiguration and charms without a wand.

Hermione had never been too interested in the lowest hanging fruit, and fully appreciated that sometimes the easiest answer was hard won by discarding many other perceptions and ideas.

Ancient Runes and Arithmancy drew her in for a reason- because it was magic that you could create a focus for, completely specialized. A spell formula within a rune, designed by Arithmancy. She thudded down the stairs excitedly, armed with the chalk her mummy had got them to decorate the sidewalk with.

If she got the chalk wet she could write on the kitchen tile, and she happily recalled the runes that named shape in transfiguration. Drawing the Arithmancy table was easy enough for her and ordering things such as they were was quite literally simple math.

She called up that magic at the bottom of the well and felt it stream out into the runes she drew steadily. Not as readily as she had hoped but she felt it working and tried to push more in magic.

She thought that this was one of her most clever ideas because it was utterly simple. At least something productive had come out of her sitting alone with her thoughts with little to no access to supplies or information. Finished with her work, sweating a little, attempting to suppress her excitement, working up the courage to master the disappointment and fear of failure, she got up and turned to her mum's ingredients.

She dug into the flour, baking soda and poured some water into a small ingredient bowl.

Things had magic in them because they were used with intent. Potions worked, not because you placed a large quantity of items imbued with magic together and they reacted like chemical components, but also and primarily because the brewer released the magic and distilled it into something with purpose. Like having a key to unlocking pipes to allow basically a _magical tea_ to flow forth.

Using potions without magical ingredients was nearly impossible; she could hardly be expected to embody, energize and keep essences pure while laying complex patterns and connections over them over an extended period of time to allow for saturation without becoming drained and exhausted. Using transmutation without magical supplements was _much_ simpler than potions. Which is what she would be doing now. A primitive form of alchemy to create a simple illusion.

In her head, runes were pipes created magically to imitate patterns of magic. The non- magical ingredients merely water compared to magical tea, but Hermione would use her own force of magic and will to make it tea. She would not unlock the magic of the ingredients but use her own magic.

It followed certain logical patterns in unlocking potential and equitable energy by design, but it was just another form of science just like potions and Arithmancy.

Dropping the chalk into her bag she stood in the middle of the Transmutation circle and then clearly articulated an incantation, closing her eyes, envisioning exactly what she wanted.

Her previous mental exercises assisted her in holding the images, the concepts, to hold in her head as she dusted the flour around the runes and then tossed the water up into the air, snapping the baking powder in the four directions.

The water stilled like raindrops, suspended motes of dust like stars in her space. The baking soda burst in little bright white lights like stars in galaxies. Coalescing over her in a cloudy layer it transformed her face and covered her in a short lived glamour.

A cloud of illusion, as written in the runes, dusting over her as she intended them to with her own push of magic and incantation. Activating the magic she stored in the runes to flow through. She felt the wells of stored energy rush out of her and panted in exertion. Her head was starting to hurt and she felt drained.

She checked her face in the hallway mirror, appearing as a very old woman. It was easiest to disguise herself as she would be in 100 years, with the finest web of wrinkles on even the smoothest part of her cheeks and around her eyes, switching to a much duller hazel, hair no longer auburn, but a silvery grey. She tilted her head back and forth, looking to see how familiar she would look. She beamed at her self and looked the very picture of a tiny little old woman wanting to give out pies to children.

Satisfied, though her limbs were heavy and she was a little shaky, she rallied. She wiped away the mess she made in the kitchen. A little nervous, she set her jaw in determination, and headed out the door.

Regaining some of that fervor she had possessed when she set out to fix things, and she gathered the cracking energy around her. Apparition into Diagon Alley was risky, it would end poorly if she was off, and even if she was recovered, the glamour of the old woman would wear off and she would have many more questions to answer.

Hermione closed her eyes, the look of broken grief on Harry's face raising unbidden in the face of her doubts and fear, blank and pale Ron, the look on Draco's face when he decided to fight back- with _her,_ of all people.

Hailing the Knight Bus, however, was a simple matter. She released the energy with all the intent of needing it's help and hailing a way to _leave_ \- to escape.

It popped into existence and screeched to a halt. The door popped open and a very old man with hair coming out of his ears and nose looked at her. His eyes were quite sharp and they looked at her- and he gave a big grin. He was missing quite a few teeth.

She gulped.

A woman, dressed in a blue overcoat and long pant skirts swung around the pole of the bus's entrance. She had a frizzy lopsided bun on her head. "Seven sickles-" The woman held out her hand looking down at the frumpy bundle of clothes before her.

Hermione's voice was small, and wavered, "Is muggle money alright- I am sure I can exchange it at Gringotts-"

The woman huffed, clearly put out "That's not how this _works,_ lady-"

Hermione felt her heart pop, and deflated.

The old man cackled from the bus drivers seat and blasted the horn cutting off the woman who looked exasperated,"Shut it, Leona- get on in here, you. Three extra sickles for interest and definitely sickles for the way back, my little lady."

Hermione didn't want to get on board with Leona who had her arms crossed and her mouth agape standing at the top.

The old man put his hand on the gears and said "We're the _Knight_ Bus! Are you coming or not?"

Hermione staggered up, almost stepping on her dress and the bus lurched forward. Leona caught her arm before she slammed into the wall. Hermione looked up, and Leona looked as if she was resigned.

"This way. Where's your stop?"

"Leaky Cauldron."

After a no less disorienting ride, they arrived to The Leaky Cauldron. Three hundred years it stood unchanged, even through the great London Fire.

As she appeared on the step she gave a great sigh of relief, and smiled as she hunched a little and shuffled into the Tavern. Finding someone who was going into the alley shouldn't be any problem at all if she just went in behind someone.

* * *

She had a very limited time frame. To make things more difficult, it seemed that things were not as untouched by time as she originally had thought. Diagon Alley was strange in the twilight, few witches and wizards were milling about. There were some shops that were oddly archaic. One of the shops advertised Remnants of protective spell charms, sneak-o-scopes, foe glasses, protego glasses: 'Good for two curses!'

Some spared her a glance, for she certainly may have looked unfamiliar, but she did her best to avoid detection. She looked curiously at the joke shop that inhabited the corner where the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes had stood since she last had seen it.

Some of the shops had closed early, she thought, for the evening wasn't truly lost to darkness.

A group of well dressed wizards in darker colors stomped by. Together, distinctly. They were speaking in rapid and harsh undertones. They spent too long looking at her, she thought with a little jolt of fear. When they passed, their narrowed eyes upon her still she checked in the glass of a window. She checked herself and looked to see if the reflection was distorting her features or if it was the spell- until a shop keep from the window selling utensils for both potions and domestic bottles came to see if she was window browsing or window shopping.

" _Straight to Gringotts"_ , she told herself in a mantra. She didn't have time if her old person glamour was fading already. She passed the grandiose lopsided doors and shuddered. The last time she entered Gringotts, it was under the pretense that she was a psychotic sycophant.

She passed the threshold, praying there would be no security present in this time that wasn't in her original time period.

Pretending to be a little old woman who just wanted to exchange the money from her saved up allowances was much easier than the job of portraying Bellatrix.

It was _such a shame_ she wasn't better at pretending to be a psychotic bitch from hell, she thought. Her acting skills needed improvement, but being an older version of herself seemed doable.

She withstood the suspicious gaze of the goblin who examined her muggle money for far too long. While he was inspecting it, she gathered herself to ask a question.

"Erm, excuse me, sir goblin." The goblins black eyes narrowed, his long nose not as sharp as some of the other goblins she had ever met but he made it appear so with the look he awarded her.

"Yes, madam _witch_?" She feared suddenly that she may have offended him. His suit swelled as he took in breath.

She stumbled "I'm sorry, I don't know your name-" He looked at her measuringly and said nothing.

"If possible, how would I open an account? I mean- a vault."

He procured papers and a deadly looking pen. Then he lowered the paperwork and the pen down on a tray from his height down to hers. The papers seemed to have a good deal of stipulations and outlines under calligraphed 'security' , 'protocol' - it was odd, she noted. That there was no requirement for a fee for the vault that she could see in a quick perusal.

Hesitant for signing without reading everything beforehand, but too nervous to waste time reading through something she was sure her muggle parents did she meekly asked,

"Would I have the ability to renegotiate contracts?"

The Goblin, his mouth twisted into a fangy smile said "Yes, if you wish the security of your vault updated. Currently, you have nothing of value and must deposit something into the vault."

She blinked and scrambling unpinned her Mums costume jewelry. The goblin peered at it and as soon as she held it up he snatched it and looked at it in the light.

She noted that it was a temporary vault of the lowest security, and came with a key but was open to re-negotiation every year dependent on deposits. She looked up at the goblin who was now looking at the costume jewel under a microscope and pulled her pen out of her bag.

Her hand was shaking a bit from adrenaline and signed her name Hermione Rose Evans and initialed.

The paper she passed back up and said, "If I could please have the galleons…?" He seemed to take extra pleasure stamping with a great bang on the paper before slowly counting the money.

When he handed over the galleons and the key she resisted the sigh of relief. She plucked up her nerve to ask one more question.

"I do apologise, but I just wanted to know if… well if I procured gold, would you purchase it?"

The goblin leaned down, "I do not see how you would have gold _to_ sell to us, as our gold is mined from deposits that _no_ wizard has had stake in for the past two hundred and six years."

Hermione blinked. Doing a quick mental calculation of what had happened two centuries ago. History of Magic was a class that had always been written off, for the love of Hufflepuff, a bonafide Ghost taught it. There was a distinct lack of historical application, she thought disapprovingly, and she felt like there should be more of a focus on the goblins side of the story. Clearly, the goblin rebellions of 1764 wasn't just about the right to hold a wand.

"I see… well, hypothetically speaking. If I did have gold... would it be possible for you to buy it?"

The Goblin looked at her with the utmost suspicion. Getting nervous she blurted, thinking to find him later, "What is your name?"

The goblin thought, with his eyes a flinty black "I am Thistlepit. I will have your answer when you come to Gringotts next." She attempted to smile, but his expression did not change and so she scuttled out of there, heading to the next order of business: the bookshop. She could not be happier to leave the bank.

Hopefully they would have back copies of the Daily Prophet, where she could gather information and see what was going on in this day and age. There were only mentions of the fact that Voldemort was gathering power. She didn't have time to keep her ear to the ground for specific information and to begin to build a relationship with informants.

Largely, the books she had access to as a sixth year student glossed over the involvement of people who weren't directly associated with the Ministry. Information was not as forthcoming since there were still so many Aurors that would not reveal the information and the impossibility of revealing information through those who were already dead.

The Daily Prophet should have a list of deaths or suspects that would point her in the right direction of what kind of tactics Voldemort and his ilk were taking, what spells they were using. To track their power and whether or not the curses that they used varied in knowledge or power.

She went to Flourish and Blotts, pleased to see that it was still a lovely and welcoming sight despite her dark thoughts. The deep blue borders of the bookshop and the white shutters squeezing outward, as if the books within were expanding the space outwards, pushing out with the mass of their ideas, made her feel nice.

She climbed the steps with a spring in her step. She entered the store with a smile and met the face of a young man minding the counter, looking up from reading a book as someone entered.

He smiled back, a dreamy sort of expression on his face, with dark eyes framed with thick lashes, he looked thoughtful and kind. "Hello, is there anything I can assist you with Madam?"

Hermione was cheerful as she responded, "Yes! If you could direct me to your issues of the Daily prophet I would appreciate it very much... and perhaps if you have any back issues?"

He sat up straight and cocked his head curiously, it made him look very young. Realizing his bewilderment may be due to her youthful voice she cleared her throat and prepared to sound much more flemmy.

He pointed to the back door, "I think I may have some back issues of the Prophet on hand. Let me check the back."

"Oh, thank you," She corrected her clear voice and made it decidedly more creaky, "Er- young man!" She winced, that surely didn't sound right.

"I'll be right back." He said disappearing behind a stack of books that looked like they were piled up aberrantly due to little or no space for holds. Hermione put her hands together over the little bag she brought for her book and took a look around.

She had just let her fingers find a book, quite thin for a lexicon, but with a proud and bold cover of brown leather and gold script, ' _Ancient and Fabulous Books, and the Libraries that House them',_ when a older gentleman came into the store, announced by the tinkle at the front door.

Hermione jumped and turned, her hand held up and the book clutched protectively to her chest.

The man noticed her reaction with a twinkle. He had thick black hair with silver run through it, cut short and worn combed back. From the strands coming loose he didn't appear to care much for perfection though he carried himself with nobility and elegance. He was wearing a deep blue robe, almost black, in the early Edwardian style with a longer train than most wizards would have worn.

"My sincerest apologies my good woman, I did not mean to startle you." His voice was congenial, words artfully pronounced.

She huffed and said, "Not at all, I simply-"

She changed her voice in an attempt to be older and thought of the stodgiest thing to say "- am just too old for such interruptions in my reading."

He threw his head back and giving a distinctive sharp shout of laughter came towards her. He presented his hand. Hermione realized that perhaps she may have been trying too hard to be old. She absolutely needed to get better at acting if disguise was going to become a regular part of her activities in the future.

His silver eyes were crinkled above his complex, yet trim facial hair; his muttonchops, shaved mustache and goatee, were separated by two shaved lines that perfectly accented his sharp cheekbones and deep smile lines. He was grinning at her as she debated taking his hand.

Dazed, and a little overwhelmed, she took his hand, but instead of shaking it he bent down and raised it to his lips.

Hovering barely above, he did not make skin contact but relinquished her hand and said, "Pleasure m'lady,"

Before he could finish his introductions, the young man returned from the back of the store. He hauled quite a few newspapers in his arms and carefully maneuvered around the stacks. His workers robes were tied around his forearms tightly, and the light green color of the cloth wrapped around his torso was secured with an overly large white belt. It was such a retro and oddly attractive outfit on the lithe book attendant, so different from the classic wealth the older gentleman possessed.

The older gentleman had released her hand and moved to a better position, in case he was needed for assistance to place the newspapers upon the counter.

"Careful there," she said, seeing his light green robes get dangerously close to the stack of books held in place by a charm.

He smiled as he placed them on the counter. "These are just all the old issues that were sent to the shop that Mr. Flatley keeps until I get fed up with them and throw them away …" Hermione began to open her purse. "Oh, I won't charge you for them, Madam, they're the shops issues, and we've read them already- like I said, throwing them away seems like a waste."

Hermione looked up and smiled, "Why, thank you so much. I do so appreciate it."

She checked the clock hanging on the wall. It had been almost an hour. She had only a few minutes to get back and hail the Knight Bus. But she didn't think about the heaviness of the newspaper, and the multitude of them. She looked back at the papers, pondering, forgetting entirely that the gentleman was still there.

The gentleman leaned on the counter casually and asked, "Now, it is an interesting thing to come to the bookstore for. Prithee, Madam, what are you looking for in the past of the Daily Prophet? Surely you have not been so ensorcelled in your reading."

Hermione thought that it may be wiser to stick with her decision of being stodgy, "There you are mistaken- good sir. I have been so ensorcelled in my reading that I feel as if I have travelled very far into the future and found I have landed myself into the past. I wish to know more of the goings on of the world." When in doubt, lie with the truth, she recalled.

The silvered wizard smiled crookedly, placing his hand on his hip, "Yet you hold only a map to the ships that sail you into the past, using the winds of theory and experiences." He nodded to the book she still held in her hand. Something about him struck her as so very familiar. She couldn't place her finger on it.

She raised the book in her hand and looked to the bookkeep, "But I shall pay for this, young man, as I do think I will need it in the coming years of my time travel."

The bookkeep frowned. Drawing dark eyebrows down, not in an unkind manner but pensive. "I didn't know we had that book. Let me go and check what the price is." He held out his hand and she reached up and handed it over to him while the older gentleman eyed her.

She ignored him entirely, attempting to avoid any prying questions. She flicked through the newspapers as she waited, attempting to search for obituaries, mention of attacks.

She became involved once more, waiting for the bookkeep until the fourth paper. Finding no mention of death or attacks, she tossed it aside noisily and the bookkeep came back. He looked a little startled, when she so obviously was not finding what she was looking for.

He said, "Mr. Flately didn't know we were in possession of his book either- are you quite alright, madam?"

Hermione looked up at both men who had been watching her. The gentleman studying her unnervingly now that she thought of it. She decided that it couldn't hurt to be a little old woman out of touch with the world that asked questions.

She leafed through the front covers of two months. There was nothing splashed upon the covers of the newspapers which she had spread out. "Is there truly no mention of any rising Dark Power? Surely there has to be some terrible tragedies occurring now."

The two men had very different reactions. Stiff and wide eyed, the young man with the kind face revealed himself to have dark blue eyes as the whites became more prominent, and his eyebrows lifted.

The gentleman however, a velvety tone to his voice, "My dear girl, the papers won't print that- you in your esteemed age, should know very well that our Ministry keeps a tight hold the ... careful education of its people."

Hermione's eyes widened. That could imply many different things.

"They control all they can," His eyes were hooded, and he folded his hands together. There was a heavy ring upon his finger that looked like a signet ring.

"How dare they," she said, rage coursing through her in hot waves. "How dare they control people with fear and ignorance." She wasn't seeing very clearly at the moment and she could feel her hair become riled static, the curls frizzing out to the energy that crackled from her. It had been going on for decades, embedded in the whole history.

"They lie to their citizens, they keep their children ignorant of the goings on- they do not inform people or provision them with the arms of tools for knowledge." Realizing she needed to regain some etiquette, she grabbed the newspapers and stacked them all in a pile roughly. She banged her small fist on the counter.

Of course she had known that by her third year, things were not as they seemed.

"Controlling power." She snapped out and reminded her to control herself.

Laws, researching ways to get people out of going to Azkaban for things they had not done seemed to be impossible, because it was a tool of the government's power over people. She had lost utter faith in the justice of the government.

In her fourth year she lost trust in them to provide for the most basic needs of their people. To function as a government. In her fifth year, she indeed knew that they would harm their citizens in order to maintain power. In her sixth, she knew something was amiss with society as a whole, but by then she blamed it on Voldemort.

This, she breathed, this could not stand no matter what she had been _intended_ to do here. She regained her sense of self. The older gentleman, concern in intense stormy eyes said, "Theo, fetch the lady some water."

The bookkeep, Theo, went behind the counter and into the back once more. Returning quickly with some water she had successfully avoided the gaze of the man still watching her. She said quietly as she accepted the glass, "If I may have one of you place the newspapers in my bag, I will make this purchase. I do apologize for my outburst."

Theo rang her up for a pittance of a galleon for her book- too low for any book of this age and rarity. During the exchange, the silvery haired gentleman bowed to her. "No apologies needed. We shall meet again now that you have joined us in the present."

She collected her bag which now held the newspapers inside and said, "I did not mean to keep you from your perusal of books. I do regret the distress it may have caused immensely. I hope you have a fine rest of your evening and I hope that you find what books you are looking for and even some that you aren't."

He smiled "Ah, t'was only a fruitless quest for my nephews who prefer sport and rambunctious play over books. Your fire was appreciated."

Hermione inclined her head and stepped outside. She gathered up her energy to once more hail the Knight bus home. If Leona looked confused at her offer of double pay, she couldn't tell.

She got home minutes before her parents arrived.

She hid the books and the papers beneath a carpet cut out under her bed as they were walking in. Hurriedly she shrugged off her dress and cardigan and stuffed it under her bed and leapt under her covers.

She heard Lily and her Mum sneak in. Her Mummy putting her hand to her forehead then kissing it softly. It was a long time before she was able to fall asleep, and she was restless in the black of sleep again.

* * *

 **Note** : Updated 11/16 for readability and minor edits.


	5. 1: I : 4 : Agency

**Act I: Childhood**

 _: In real life, strategy is actually very straight forward. You pick a direction and implement like hell.:_ Jack Welch

In which the day has finally arrived, and pieces are moved to be in closer proximity.

 _Chapter 4: Agency_

* * *

Hermione had a difficult time keeping her simmering to a minimum through the summer. She felt jumpy and agitated, worn out from trying to not be tense and withdrawn.

She had been playing with children, rollerbootin,' lounging about their room reading magazines listening to Simon and Garfunkel and Mungo Jerry until their Da came to bother the girls and their friends in the evenings by blasting his Deep Purple or Black Sabbath album.

Each sunny day of laughter, summer baking of cookies and meringue pies, balmy summer nights filled with family games, and singing songs made Hermione feel a weight of guilt. She experienced happiness, how could she not, but when she stayed up late nights when Lily was passed out searching the Daily Prophet for clues and whispers, information within the negative spaces she felt the chill of failure. It invaded her dreams, like creeping ice breaking her apart.

It was a July morning and she was laying still, still remembering the frustration that crunched the paper between her hands last night.

She lay there for a while longer, and then Lily's voice floated over next to her, a cloud of red hair framing around her eyes, still sleepy, "'Mione, what's a matter?"

She looked at Lily. Having someone to tell all of her thoughts desires, changes plans. She tried to avoid writing things down out of fear that there would be something that her twin would could be explained by math. Runes, making up a language. Complications would inevitably arise, and it wasn't something that she could deal with now. Perhaps later, but definitely not now. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

"Nothing, just bad dreams." That was a lie- she hadn't been able to remember a single dream since waking up in this child body.

Lily squinted and rubbed her eyes in the same manner Hermione did. "I had a dream that Petunia pushed us into a kennel and then tried to sell us to the circus. But all the keys broke."

Hermione looked at her sister. Lily was so saddened by Petunia. Small things like this mattered. They had to matter to her and she could do something about this. This wasn't just acting selfishly. Here and now is where she should act. Things would fall into place, they had to, or she would make them. Decided, she bolstering her reserves of energy and jumped up onto her bed.

"You know what Lily? Today is going to be great! We'll talk to Petunia, and we'll go and pet kitties at Emily's house, and…" Lily giggled through her pillow and got up "Yes!" She began to jump on the bed and say "We're going to do magic!" and Hermione joined her, saying all of the things that was going to be great about the rest of their summer. "We're going to get our letters and we're going to do magic!"

They dressed and made their beds, conversing about the dresses they liked and about what socks they should wear that day- and they went downstairs to find that their eggs in toast had been made with a healthy portion of peaches on the side. Their Mummy was cleaning and moving laundry about with practice, and Petunia was helping her.

It was clear they were talking about something important, because when the twins came in they hushed and their Mum greeted them. "Goodmorning my little star lily," She gave Lily's face a squeeze and kissed her on the head. "and goodmorning my little rose. Your breakfast's on the counter, your Da will be in shortly."

Hermione sat at the kitchen and picked up a peach with a fork as Lily began to munch on her eggy toast. Petunia frowned "I don't see why he had to leave, it's Saturday. He usually gets Saturday off."

The mummy of three remained quiet. "Don't worry about it Petunia." Hermione asked, still wishing to know in case she should suggest to her Da more pressingly his investment in gold now asked, "Mummy, is it something at work? Or does he need to work more because we need more money?"

Her mummy turned her blue eyes on her, concern in the delicate lines on her brow. "Don't worry your sweet head about it."

Hermione insisted pertly, "I just want to know whether Da is stressed at work. Maybe we can plan something nice for him." but began to eat her breakfast.

Mrs. Evans folded some of their shirts and said thoughtfully, "No, nothing at work. He just got- a strange letter."

Hermione looked at Lily, then Lily's eyes got really big, as if asking 'You think so?'

Petunia's eyes narrowed with suspicion, looking so much like her mummy, but sharper, with her mouth pressed in.

Before they could start actually speaking, the door opened, and they could hear the light welsh tones of their Da and then a call from the living room. "Oh Penelope, caru1! Come here would you please- yes, yes, Mrs. Evans will be coming along shortly."

Mrs. Evans furrowed her brows and placed the laundry aside. Then ran her hands to smooth out her shirt and straightened her self and said sternly, "Stay here you three."

Hermione's arm hairs were on end. She began to think about what she would do if a battle were to occur, checking exits and looking for defense, with the amount of adrenaline rushing through her.

Lily was biting her lip and tugging at her hair nervously. Petunia hissed coming over quickly, "What did you two do?"

Offended, Lily said, "Us two? What do you mean, _you two_? We didn't do anything."

Petunia folded her arms and stuck out one hand in a pointer finger, exactly as if their Mummy was telling them they had better clean this mess up _right_ now. "I know it's because of you."

"Lily, Hermione! Come here please, there's someone that would like to meet you."

Hermione and Lily jumped up, burst out the door and skidded into the living room. In their modern, for the time, living room they saw their parents standing together looking as if they were going to pop with pride. Two very magical people were standing opposite of them. Hermione didn't know who the man was, and she didn't care. Her eyes were filled with a woman, possibly around thirty years of age, with sharp proud features, and a stern look about her mouth.

Her face was currently set in a kind but aloof manner, her hands folded over a tartan dress. Her dress was oddly victorian but with a square cut neckline and a certain era flare that Hermione could not quite place her finger on. She wore no hat, but the tight bun was present. Professor Minerva McGonagall said in her scottish proper, "Good Morning girls, my name is Professor McGonagall. I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry."

Hermione, whether by childlike joy or by relief and anticipation, ran straight to McGonagall and wrapped her arms tightly around the woman.

"Oof, child," said Minerva, not very displeased. Lily seconded the motion, and then as Hermione drew back Lily took her hands and squealed, "It's real - it's _rea_ l! Oh Hermione we're going to Hogwarts with Severus and it's going to be so amazing!" She threw her arms around Hermione and jumped up and down.

When she was Hermione Granger, Professor McGonagall had appeared on the doorstep explaining that she was indeed the representative of the school for children with extraordinary abilities and once seated began an 'interview' that gently eased her parents into the idea. The introduction was much more abrupt and inquisitive, with her parents acting very confused and reluctant. She had to tell them about the light that she was able to produce while under her covers after they had taken all the flashlights away so she could read- and later, while they were still expressing their hesitation that Hermione really was a witch, she had to connect some humiliating explanations about bullies in school.

Hermione jumped up and down with her twin and then turned to Professor McGonagall. Breathing hard holding Lily's hand she said, "My name is Hermione Evans," Lily jumped in breathless "And I'm Lily!" Hermione continued in one breath "-and I'm very pleased to meet you Professor McGonagall."

Lily nearly shouted, "When does school start?"

The man who had accompanied her gave out little bursts of laughter. His face was open, broad and handsome with a wide smile. He had thick wavy blonde hair deep gold in color and a warm hazel green eyes near sparkling with delight. He was wearing a white cotton shirt that was paired with pants that looked like they were halfway between a suit and jeans. It was clasped with a belt of heavy green scales with a gold clasp that matched a chain draping out of his front pocket attached to the loopholes. He looked positively, dashingly, eccentric, and mostly muggle.

"School will start in September," he spoke in a rich tone with a hard to place accent from somewhere in the Northern part of England. "I am Professor Lugaid. Your Father here had been telling me that you made friends with a boy who told you all about Hogwarts."

Lily, looking at him with a dazzled expression, "Oh, yes he told us a member of the staff would come by to tell us- but there's two of you! Which is almost just as good as having an owl bring us the letters because owls delivering mail- how much like a fairytale it would be!"

Professor McGonagall looked at Lily with amusement. "'Tis no fairy tale, Miss Evans."

The blonde Professor stepped forward and put his hand up while saying "Still seems like one, they'll figure out it's just a part of life soon enough. Young ladies, do you have any questions?"

Hermione thought for just a heartbeat before Lily exclaimed, "Oh, please can you do magic with a wand? Can we see?"

Professor Lugaid smiled and drew his wand, much to McGonagall's displeasure. She looked like she was warning him, Hermione under the assumption that she felt like he was going to take it too far.

His wand was near white, and her parents looked on curiously but with a hint of nervousness and he said gently, " _Orchidious Draconis_ ," and great blooming red and white flowers sprouted from his wand, with centers that glowed like fire. He caught them and waved his wand in two flicks pointed at one of the glass vases sitting unused as decoration on the bookshelf mantle and said " _Aguamente_ " and he placed the bouquet in the vase.

Lily's face was glowing, and though Hermione had to appear to be excited at this very elementary display, her face was on McGonagall who shook her head minutely and turned to the girls once more. "Any further questions? Perhaps about school, or perhaps what is expected of you?"

"Professor McGonagall, come, this is the first time they've seen magic." He appeared to be quite amused with the stern Scottish Professor. Hermione lit upon a well disguised question to attempt to see if there were any hidden answers she might glean about the Trace and the book.

"Did Hogwarts send two professors because we're twins?"

Professor McGonagall said, "No, my dear girl, it is because we are learning how to meet Muggle parents and approach them in the best way possible- I do so hope Mr. and Mrs. Evans felt comfortable meeting us? Professor Lugaid assured me that appearing upon your doorstep would be more than a little unsettling. I fear that I have not lived in cities for quite some time."

Mrs. Evans, kindly said, "Oh, no it's quite alright, I don't think there is any way to make it less surreal." She appeared to remember something, "Oh, my- would you care for some tea? Or coffee perhaps? I also have a few snacks if you would like, it's the least I can do for you coming down and taking such good care of us." Penelope Evan's light blonde hair whipped back and forth across her shoulders as she looked back and forth between her husband and the witch and wizard.

Lugaids eyes lit up, "I'd love some refreshments!" he said and leaned against the chair where the twins were standing nearby.

McGonagall said, "Now, Professor, may I remind you that we have several appointments to make today."

He responded, "As true- yes, but I think we have enough time to make sure everyone is comfortable and has had time to think of questions."

Mrs. Evans pulled herself out of Mr. Evans arms and moved into the hallway, disappearing into the kitchen but not before calling out, "Petunia, what are you doing in the hallway?"

Hermione sent a knowing and sad gaze to Lily who responded with her own in kind. Professor Lugaid picked up on the situation and breathed out a little "Ah." As if he had seen this many times before, and empathized.

McGonagall appeared to be trying to form words properly, with her hands crossed in front of her skirt. "Would you like- to have a letter sent to you through Owl post… or would you rather you know what it is that you need for school immediately?"

Lily and Hermione said post and now respectively, then the opposite in accordance. Professor McGonagall smiled, and Professor Lugaid laughed. Their Da asked, "One of each then? I think I'm just as excited to see the list as my little rose is, but owls! Delivering mail. Not messenger pigeons or hawks?"

Professor McGonagall pushed her tiny spectacles further up onto her nose and said, "Owls can be made wiser by their wizard more easily than other birds. Such as cats, toads and rats are easier familiars, in comparison to dogs ...though some breeds are not out of the question." She produced a letter from what appeared to be the corner of her sleeve and handed it to Hermione.

Hermione reverently accepted it. She was not as appreciative, as inquisitive and suspicious her first time being introduced to Hogwarts had been. The feel of the heavy yellow paper in her hands, the emerald green ink outlining her name in graceful script, addressing her as _Hermione Rose Evans, attic bedroom, the North bed._

She ran her fingers over the red wax seal and then with a satisfying click it opened to a very familiar script detailing her acceptance and a list of required materials. In the background she heard her Da ask if familiars helped magical people fuel their magic or if they were made magical by wizards. Professor McGonagall seemed rather taken aback that he was so interested. She explained, it was a complex matter about potential of magical ability lying within the creature. Hermione and Lily looked lovingly at the letter and McGonagall continued that cats and owls and rats were best suited for tasks, but toads were generally accepted as a familiar due the extraordinary sense that it may possess to changes and dangers.

McGonagall huffed, "Though, it is only as good a sensor to danger as the wizard or witch who holds it is."

Mr. Evans nodded, "I see. Girls, may I see the list?" He held out his hand and Hermione handed it over, her heart leaping into her throat at the thought of leaving for Diagon Alley so she could begin.

Hermione took this opportunity to observe the Professors and Lily followed the letters her small hands hanging off their Da's arm as she strained to see it more. Professor Lugaid met Hermione's eyes, which she calmly returned, thinking who he may be in the grander scheme. She didn't remember mention of this Professor and she wondered if he was useless, useful, or if he had died.

He cocked his head minutely and Hermione purposefully blinked and broke eye contact. She had to be careful, she reminded herself. She'd need to start thinking about Occlumency practice again once she had resources and people to practice with, she assured herself. She shook the weighted feeling and breathed in, as she could almost smell the Hogwarts Library once more.

Momentarily their Da looked up with concern on his features. "Where does one buy a… cauldron? Or Dragon Hide gloves? The rest I'm sure we could scrounge up hunting a bit-"

Their Mummy came back inside, bearing a tray of her lemon curd tarts with raspberries atop them like cute tiny hats, and pinafores with graceful chocolate lacework. Hermione smiled at the obviously impressed faces, and she and Lily served their guests as if they were at their own tea party. Conversation flowed easily between the four family members, their Da asking about the wizards way of life and their Mum asking about their school if anything would have to change at home.

It was about the time that Petunia inched forward into the living room with cups, and their Mum beckoned her. "Come Petunia, come get some tea and tarts and sit and listen. Now, you said you were both Professors- oh, what subjects do you two teach? Are you like our teachers, like if something's happened do I contact you through-" She turned to look for confirmation from her husband "Owls? Was it owls?" She turned back to them worry scrunching her brows together "Do we catch owls?"

Hermione was struggling not to laugh, as was Professor Lugaid. McGonagall looked as if she thought it was _quite_ undignified. "No! Mrs. Evans. We should not expect you to speak with an owl, unless of course one of your daughters has found a suitable owl for messages in Diagon Alley. The Headmaster, Dumbledore, has often granted permission for parents to have floo powder in cases of dire need to speak with students. I can assure you, Headmaster Dumbledore is quite attentive to the security of … of the students. You may write to him with your return owl, which will be sent to Lily about methods of contact."

Professor Lugaid said warmly, "I can send you instructions on floo powder. It works much like a telephone except with a hearth. I see that you have one suitable enough here. As to your question of the subjects we teach, I teach Muggle Studies, and the Professor here teaches Transfiguration."

Their Da asked, "Muggle studies?"

McGonagall, primly said, "Non-magical people, such as yourselves."

Petunia, halfway through a pinafore stiffened. Professor Lugaid said, flicking his eyes over to McGonagall, "Yes," He said, low and smooth "I believe that a good understanding between wizards and muggles will occur through education." He paused, fully looking at Petunia, "Despite this, I must impress upon you the importance of the large majority of the non magical world remaining ...unknowing of magic." His expression was sincere, but Petunia looked like something had crawled up her skin. Her lip trembled and she set down her pinafore and vehemently said, "Why would I tell _anyone_?" She stood up, dropped her sweet, and near stomped out.

Hermione reached out and touched Lily's hand, because she looked crushed, but Hermione didn't think it would be good for either of them to go after her at this point.

Their mummy put down her teacup and said "I'll go and check on her. It was a pleasure meeting the both of you."

She left to follow Petunia up the stairs and the Professors shared a look before standing as well. Professor McGonagall said "The post with Miss. Lily Evans' letter will be by shortly."

Professor Lugaid stood up and said, "There is the matter of getting to Diagon Alley. If you would like to be accompanied by one of us, we will be able to take you there when you can go. All you would have to do is meet us at Charring Cross Road in London at the Leaky Cauldron- your girls will be able to spot it- just send the request along with your return owl."

Their Da reached out his hand and smiled, "I thank you both for coming down and being so kind. I appreciate it- "

Professor Lugaid accepted his hand and shook it warmly. He looked at McGonagall and she nodded her head. It was time for them to depart.

* * *

The decision was reached when Snape had run all the way from his house and ended up on their doorstep panting, sweating profusely in his heavy coat. He said, cheeks red, that his mother was taking him tomorrow and that they'd just _have_ to come with him. Lily had received the owl carrying her letter and it stayed for a while, eating some of their chicken dinner with them that evening.

The owl left sometime in the morning after their parents wrote their regards to the Professors and telling them they'd have a local friend who was a witch escort them. Hermione, lying awake in the night, too excited to sleep, watched as it flapped its wings silently over the rooftops of Cokeworth, their reply attached to its leg. She slept restlessly as if she were awake the whole night.

They awoke as if it were Christmas morning. Jumping out of bed at just morning light, donning clothes immediately running a brush through their hair- Hermione attempting to run her fingers through her curls before realising she could brush it. Lily told her she should wear a ribbon. Lily tied a white ribbon in her hair and Hermione did the same with a blue. Looking at each other with silly grins they approved of their appearance in their matching dresses and high socks. They went down the stairs, and found that their parents were already brewing coffee and beginning breakfast, likewise excited.

It was when they were just finishing up breakfast that Petunia came down stairs in her coat and dress, and lingered at the doorway. A look of relief spread across their Mummy's face as she went to her eldest and hugged her, pressing her head close. "You changed your mind, Petunia."

There was a ring at the door. The Evanses shared looks between themselves. Not already, surely, was the message that passed between them. Their Da went to go and open the door around the hallway. The girls staying inside the kitchen were curious but Petunia was seated at her spot at the table so that she could have breakfast.

Their Da came in with one lone boy trailing after him. Mr. Evans' face looked drawn and he smiled but with a strange watery look to his eye and in a tone that was a little gruff, their Da said "Come on then, breakfast for you before we leave."

Their Mummy plied two breakfast plates and cast a questioning glance at her husband. He said quietly to her, "Mrs. Snape won't be joining us today." Hermione surreptitiously watched Severus, who held his fork until it burned white hot. He hissed and it dropped. Petunia dropped her fork and glared.

Their parents were having an eyebrow discussion once more, and did not notice this exchange. Hermione didn't blame him for being furious, she was too. Helpless, she felt water prick at her eyes as Severus appeared to be impacting in on himself. She had to stop the rising wave of guilt. There wasn't much that she could do at this point.

"Severus knows how to get into Diagon Alley. He said that his mother informed him, as she was unable to go herself." Their Da's tone was forcibly light.

Severus clenched his fists on his knees and looked down, the hair on the back of his neck was standing up.

Lily placed a hand on his fist, and after a while he was able to finish breakfast and they left to be whisked away to London by train.

* * *

Lily, Hermione and Severus had immediately spotted the Leaky Cauldron on Charring Cross Road. The streets were old, mostly cobblestone that had been worn smooth, and in places replaced by modernity.

Hermione and Lily had trouble convincing their parents that there was anything there besides a dangerously broken down looking shop. Petunia firmly crossed her arms and said she wasn't going inside such a filthy shop, but ran to catch up when she thought she would be left behind. Severus went forward onto the porch step of the door. The girls, wordlessly clasped hands and grabbed onto their parents hands to drag them forth.

Severus opened the door unto darkness. Dark woods, heavy architecture hailing to the fifteen hundreds, was overwhelming to their adjusting eyesight. Rich wood carvings decorated any new additions from the sixteen hundreds on. Hermione felt a sense of arriving home that she wasn't able to feel when she was rushing towards the back when she came in as an old woman. She lovingly traced the mythical creatures carved into the long bar with her eyes.

There were numerous fireplaces, conveniently placed, that served as entry ways. Some clearly designed a century ago and some nearly a decade. Smaller fireplaces upstairs were scattered for floo conversations, the private dining rooms off to the sides of the pub and the large open space for the common dining as well provided plenty of private and public seating. It was not ostentatiously magical, and there were hints that it was to be muggle friendly. Such as portraits and an old rotary phone that looked like it was from the 1930's. A younger Tom than Hermione remembered greeted the group from behind the bar.

"'Allo there-" Her parents looked as if they weren't sure where to stand or what to say. Tom raised a finger, "Ah, youngin's. First time to Diagon Alley? Welcome! Straight through the back there." He pointed.

The Evanses looked around in wonder, and slightly followed his crooked finger to the back but got lost in the flying buttresses above the second floor hallways. Petunia wrinkled her nose as she put her hand on one of the tables and withdrew it quickly. Her Da looked as if he had questions. Hermione had forgotten what it was like to be here as a muggle who had no idea why there would be so many empty fireplaces and disjointed architecture.

Hermione went straight up to Tom and tilted her head. "Thank you for being so helpful. My name is Hermione Evans, and it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. What is your name?"

Toms toothy smile closed in impression of Hermione's words, he looked touched "Why, you can call me Tom, little Hermione! I'm pleased to the utmost to make your acquaintance as well. If there's anything you need, let me know."

Severus was calling from the back, "C'on, hurry up! Bring the old man!" Hermione flapped her hand at him. Lily was delightedly peering at witches and wizards in their robes, some of them shooting her irritated glances as she looked at them while they had breakfast. Mr. Evans and Mrs. Evans were pointing things out to each other whispering questions and trying to get Petunia interested. Petunia just looked like a skittish colt.

Hermione shook her head and she turned back to Tom, "If you would be so kind as to open the gateway, I'm afraid that we don't possess a wand."

Tom smiled and escorted the family to the back graciously. Severus was tapping on the bricks but stepped back as Tom said, "Excuse me young man, but I think you may need this." He took out his gnarled wand and tapped counter clockwise upon bricks that then folded and puzzled back into themselves.

Tom said proudly, taking particular pleasure in watching their reactions,"Welcome, to Diagon Alley."

Morning light streamed down into the cluster of buildings pressed together with all kinds of colors and interesting architectural archipelago. For her sisters and her parents it was overwhelming- but for Hermione, she felt the back of her neck hairs stand at attention. She scanned the hubbub.

Severus pointed at things and explained, all the while leading them to the Gringotts bank. Hermione patiently listened as Severus detailed everything he knew about what people sold and why. He was right about a lot of things, but a few were probably his best guesstimation which was almost right. She said nothing.

There was a little bend on the right where the main street of Diagon alley pressed in between two buildings. Located at the twist, there was an alleyway that sloped downward, at a lopsided intersection. Three well dressed wizards were just walking up the steps, speaking about something in a grave manner. Hermione knew they were coming up from Knockturn Alley. The wizards were walking towards the little family. Mr. and Mrs. Evans exchanged a sentence or two that perhaps they should ask them where the bank is for certain, as Severus seemed to have forgotten which prong to take.

The three men extracted themselves from their conversation, and the tallest one narrowed his eyes looking at the clothing they wore. Another one of the group unassuming brown hair, neatly coiffed, clean shaven, trim, but not muscled scanned them. He flicked his eyes over the hands and hips of her parents, and then to the children. A shadow passed over his face.

The man wasn't overtly villainous, but Hermione's eyes locked with his when realization colored his features. Fear struck through her into her lower back, and the instincts that had led her through battle raised themselves like hackles. He had looked for a wand, and found none among them, and judged them to be prey.

Hermione pressed her hand onto her Da's coat not turning from the three wizards, and pushed forward, "Let's not ask them, come I'm sure it's just straight ahead, it's a big building, right Severus?" Severus seemed to be more in awe and curious about the men leaving Knockturn Alley. The third wizard curled his lip at them as he and his stalked by.

Her parents looked as if they would shush her, and ask anyway, but she looked at Severus and with urgency upon her face, he nodded "Yeah, it's straight ahead."

Mr. Evans told him, "If you're sure- then let's move ahead."

Severus said,"We should come back down and go to Knockturn Alley." The boy gazed longingly down into the shadowed alley. Mrs. Evans tsked, "We'll see." Which really meant not if she could find even the smallest thing off about the dank sideways street.

Upon entrance to the bank was when the Evans seemed a little apprehensive. Petunia picked up on this immediately and gripped onto the back of her Da's jacket. Hermione bit her lip, if she took charge now, it would be extremely out of character, especially with her prodding when they encountered the wizards but she saw that her parents were sincerely determined to succeed in being parents in this case.

They examined the inscribed warning carefully, her Da muttering, "I don't think this is a joke. If this is not a joke, quite the serious business." Her mummy whispered, "A tad ominous- unwelcoming."

They shared a glance between each other and ushered their children inside. Her Da got that determined and concentrated line between furrowed brows, and their mummy had a certain set to her jaw. Both were set on conquering this strange foreboding place with tiny, pointy nosed, stone eyed, suspicious, and stuffy humanoids.

A distinguished man turned away from an imposing counter near to the entrance. He didn't appear at all intimidated by the squat goblin atop the counter, as Hermione had remembered herself being. He appeared to be ready to speak to someone directly behind him, but found no one there. He looked to and fro.

The goblin was staring down at the regal man with collection of sharp sounding stamping instruments, which he was banging on paper maliciously, oozing vitriol from his looming post.

The gentleman placed a sack into his long coat which flared out behind him in an impressive black billow as he turned back around. He wore silver in accent on his clothes that did wonders for his silver streaked black hair, including his neatly trimmed mustache, mutton chops and goatee all carved out separately from one another. He stopped a little short, considering something, then continuing his momentum a smile slid across his features.

Hermione took a step back, almost hiding behind her Da, sharing the hiding place with Petunia. Her Da placed a hand protectively atop her head.

Same artful words, classy bearing, dashing appearance- it was the older gentleman from the bookshop. He approached them with full eye contact. "Greetings! I sense that you may have never been to the great bank of Gringotts before." He gave a small bow at the waist and placed one hand behind his back looking at each of the Evans family, "Forgive me if I offend by offering a hand that is unneeded, but I would be happy to be of assistance to you, if desired."

Severus pulled his chest up to say something, but Mr. Evans had a burst of laughter, and said with relief in his voice, "How kind of you. Truly, no offense taken. My name is Jac Evans, this is my wife Penelope Evans, and these are my flowers Hermione and Lily and- " Jac looked around a bit before pulling Petunia forward who looked quite star struck by the gentleman. "-Petunia. This here is their friend, Severus Snape, who has been our little wizardry educator."

"Pleasure." The older gentleman looked as if it wasn't just good breeding instilling the response, but that he did in fact mean it. He shook Mr. Evans hand and Hermione peeked up at him.

The distinguished wizard saw, of course, and bent down slightly to be at the twins height. Some flash of recognition flared into the raised expression of his eyebrow. "What…astonishing eyes for lovely little girls…"

He continued by turning to Snape and said, "Young man, it seems to me you've been taking good care of them, showing them around." Severus grew an inch at the praise.

The gentleman turned back to their Da and said, "Please, call me Alphard."

Hermione was once again struck with a tingling brushing as if she should certainly know why this man was so familiar.

Alphard turned to back to Severus, "I think you would do a fine job of keeping everyone together just outside the bank on the steps - just be on the steps mind you - while I conduct business for exchanging muggle money for wizard money shortly. My nephews should be just outside as well if you could locate them and perhaps bring them back here or stall them from scattering. All four pairs of eyes could be useful."

Severus nodded solemnly. Mrs. Evans began to say something, but Alphard held out his hand and he said "Forgive me, madam for not properly finishing the introduction-" she paused and placed her hand on his and he kissed her hand devilishly, " I swear they shall be safe on the steps." Mrs. Evans blushing lightly nodded to them.

Hermione was happy to go, but she glanced around, looking for unfinished business, and when Severus grabbed Lily's hand to escape the cold iron and marble lobby chamber, she slipped away. Darting past some wizards she beelined straight to Thistlepit who was busy moving some papers around.

"Excuse me, Thistlepit, I am sorry but -Thistlepit?" She said trying to get his attention as quickly and as quietly as she could.

The goblin turned towards her as if confused, and then pinched his small eyes, already close together, so narrowly they appeared to be in the center of his face.

She gave a little nod and wave, and said "Hello, erm… I am Hermione Evans, I am pleased to make your acquaintance but my- uh, granny asked you a question a little while ago- is it possible?"

Thistlepit pushed papers into a small dark hole. The papers zipped away. Thistlepit bared his teeth in, what Hermione thought would be highly optimistically called, a smile.

"Elaborate." Hermione got the feeling that it meant the opposite, but she was determined.

"Is it possible for the esteemed institution of Gringotts to graciously purchase gold?"

Thistlepit said after a heavy and long pause, "Yes." He looked at her with all of his teeth in the yes.

" _Thank_ you, very much. I appreciate your efforts. It was nice meeting you Thistlepit, have a very nice day." She ran.

* * *

"Alphard said that Madame Malkins was the best choice for school robes, and after that we should get wands at… Olives?" Their Da said, squinting at the shops.

Severus said, "Olliv _ander_. The greatest wandmaker in Western Europe. It's the _only_ place to get your wand. It's going to be expensive though." Severus looked down to where he clutched his small pouch despairingly, and their Mummy placed a soft hand over his shoulder and said as quietly as she could over the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley, "Don't fret darling."

"Did you meet Mr. Alphards nephews? He left to go and find them- do you have idea where they went?" Their Da seemed more chipper than expected. Hermione was so very close to smacking herself on the forehead, as Alphards relevance was so very close to the tip of her tongue. He had passed the point of familiarity, she now thought she _had_ to know who he was.

Severus said, "They weren't outside when we got out there." He sounded somewhat disappointed, because as Lily would confide to Hermione later, Severus thought that Alphard seemed to be a very great wizard. The very best, Lily would say, as if we met a celebrity.

Mrs. Evans said, "Oh, I remember Madame Malkins, I thought it was a fancy dress shop- I had no idea that's where we were to buy school robes."

Their Da placed a guiding hand upon Severus's shoulder and said, "Don't worry laddie, we're going to meet up with them at an Cyclops Empyrean."

"I don't think that's it darling," their Mummy said loftily.

"Could be." He said. She just pursed her lips.

They passed by Knockturn alley once more, passing through families or collections of people preparing for the new school year. They did not see many obvious muggle families, and none that were unaccompanied.

Severus pointed to the alley and looked up at his friends parents, but Mrs. Evans told him "Perhaps after wands, dear."

Madame Malkins seemed to be the most opposite of Ollivanders in all of Diagon Alley. The wand shop appeared especially dank and mysterious after the bright and bountiful bolts of fabric streaming across the robe shop, the tile floor gleaming with cleanliness as a woman bustled over to you measuring and pinning.

Ollivanders shop did indeed look as if he hadn't cleaned his shop in decades, their Mummy's skin may as well have visibly crawled. Dark wood, its grain bunching up in gnarled lines and ridged upwards in patterns that Hermione found mesmerising. Boxes were plied into every empty space, coaxed to squeeze together into shelf spaces that simply had no room to store what it already had much less any more wands, and Lily eyed them doubtfully.

Ollivander was at his desk, examining some branches with what appeared to be a golden magnifying glass in three rings with a measure like a telescope attached to his head. He was peering into the wood."Just one moment please. Be seated over there." He did not point, or look up, or make any sort of adjustment in his continued examination of the branches.

There already was a boy seated in the cramped waiting area. He looked defeated, head down, wavy almost white blonde hair hanging in front of his face, as if he had resigned himself to waiting for ages. He was thin, but wore an interesting mix of a well kept muggle t shirt, and wizardly breeches with suspenders, long socks and oxfords.

Lily, ever so pleased to meet people, sat next to him promptly. Severus stood back a little and suspiciously examined the boxes behind and piled over the high counter.

Mr. and Mrs. Evans surveyed the shop with obvious doubt of whether this wand shop was a legitimate sort of business. Hermione suspected that it was because Mummy was a neat and orderly person by nature, and her Da certainly supported the simple time tested judgement that good businesses cared about appearances, both of them would have thought about appearances _at least_.

Lily was done attempting to make eye contact with the young boy in the corner and decided to initiate conversation with him "Hello, are you excited to get your first wand too?"

He didn't look up at her but quietly he responded, "Are-are you?"

Hermione felt bad for him. Lily, when confronted with people who looked like they were in need of help, immediately blossomed, but if they were at all discerning, she was a little shy. It could be quite overwhelming to be the subject of her undivided attention.

Ollivander placed a branch in a box and then sighed heavily as he took off the magnifying head piece. He looked up and muttered "Oh dear, my, my, my, my, my," He paused and peered with his pale large blue eyes, which looked all at once strained and paunchy over at the bounty of people in his shop. "I have quite forgotten who arrived first."

Lily turned to the old man and pointed to the boy, who looked up as if scared she was going to call him something. Brightly she said "He's first!"

The boy shook his head and said, "Oh no, you can go first, r-really."

Lily said, "Are you sure?"

Severus, sharp, "He said go, so just go!" and prodded her in the shoulder.

Her twin jumped up and nearly leapt onto the platform where the wandmaker had gestured. He muttered a few things, that Hermione couldn't hear but Lily responded with a chirrup of "Why- yes," and then said with a little gasp "Oh no," and "-Perhaps."

Then Ollivander shuffled off into the aisles. Their parents watched intently, and Severus craned his head over the counter to see what he was getting from the back.

Hermione was preoccupied with the boy who had kept his head tilted downward. He looked nervously at her through his hair. She examined him out of the corner of her eye, and he looked at her out of the corner of his. Severus stood, watching Lily.

Lily was handed her first wand, and before the true blossom of her smile reached to the roots of her red hair Ollivander snatched it away and said, "No- Clearly not."

Lily's face, and her parents faces, fell. Severus snickered. This occurred a few more times and lasted long enough to where the girls Mummy had suggested to their Da that perhaps one of them should go and look at the prices of textbooks or the potion set requirements. He said, watching closely with his hand on his chin, he was trying to figure out how the wands were considered unworthy of Lily and that he didn't want to miss _the_ moment. Lily had become impatient, and the boy next to Hermione had become moderately comfortable as she had not forced further attention upon him. Several strange things happened in escalation, when Ollivander waited for a moment too long or when there was a great surge of magic that burst in odd ways.

Petunia had tried edging toward a wand that Ollivander had exchanged quickly, as if it was a long shot but he may as well try it. It rolled away as if repelled by the blonde girl.

The wood in the shop turned white and Ollivander breathed, "Ah, " as if he was considering whether this was a good thing, when the ladder began to try to escape. Ollivander promptly ripped it out of Lily's hands.

Several wands later, a great flowering burst filled the air with sparks that looked like petals and vines, triumphant glowing lines in the air.

Shouts rang out excitedly from the attending family members. Ollivander said, "Good for charms, springy."

Lily gave a delighted giggle. Ollivander said, "T'will be seven galleons and eleven sickles and three knuts."

Their parents opened up their little bag and pulled out a coin and Severus dutifully said, "Sickle," and then they counted them out, and pulled out a different coin, "Knut," he said dismissively and this continued until they piled Ollivanders desk with the coins.

"Funny, it seems that the coins should be heavier than they are." Mr. Evans frowned a little and said, "Will this be the same price for both wands?"

Ollivander said, "Oh yes, except in grand cases or in cases where careless wizards have cruelly left their wands unattended, or have misused it to such an extent that it has broken, all wands will be the same price." Her Da nodded and placed more of the same coins upon the counter.

Mrs. Evans said, "I see." and with her motherly blue eyes looked at Severus's worried brow. She urged him forward next as she saw that Hermione stayed quite patiently upon her seat next to the other boy in the shop. Hermione gave a gallic shrug and her face remained neutral. The only mother in the room bit her bottom lip briefly and said, "Go on Severus, don't worry about it."

Petunia pulled on her Mummy's arm and said, "Can I try?"

Penelope Evans looked at her husband, troubled. Ollivander came closer to the girl and peered at the slight girl with the long face.

Petunia leaned backwards to escape his gaze as he swayed back and forth slowly in front of her. She watched him with wide eyed trepidation.

"Severus…" Ollivander intoned, still locking eyes with Petunia for just a second more.

"Peculiar and severe name for a child." He turned to Severus who had uneasily chosen to be halfway on and off the platform. He shooed him up. "Now, let us begin." He took a few turns on the cramped alley ways.

The process for Severus however, was slimmed down quickly after Severus began to question Ollivander about wands. "Why does the wand choose the wizard? Is it not a tool?"

Ollivander switched out a particularly violently struggling wand that had cracked his windows when pressure built in the shop before answering, "It is a tool of the same mind, made of similar material as the wizard you could say. That is why we procure such powerful tools in the beginning of our life, so that we may grow with it."

He paused, as he neared a wall that contained a wooden chest and said, "I only use three materials for my wands, for I believe that it allows for the most flexibility, for the most concordance of power. A wand… is only as powerful as the user, but some wands… will not contain some wizard's will."

He opened the box, and plucked through some wands. "That is not to say that they are inferior, but that simply some wizards take some time finding the right material to…" He drifted off and produced an elegant blood red wand. "...resonate with."

Severus was handed the wand, "From my colleague, creation, Rosewood, 8 inches, Thestral hair -" and instantly most of a shelf flew off of it's holding place. Ollivander snatched it back, looked at the mess and said "Oh, dear. Almost, but not quite."

Severus frowned. Petunia bent to grab a wand that rolled towards them from the pile, and as her fingertips brushed it, she squeaked as it shocked her, audibly and visibly.

Petunias eyes watered, and her Mummy bent down immediately and hug-pulled her away. "I'm so sorry darling, but these wands are for magical people."

Ollivander took a pitying look upon the blonde girl and said "Yes, that's right. It would be forever in conflict with you, child, and it would die in your hands or… much worse." Petunias eyes welled up even more so and she made a horrible high pitched sound in her throat and bolted. Lily shouted "Tuney!" and sprinted after her. A split second later, their parents looked at each other then Hermione said, "Go after them, I'll be fine. Severus and I will meet you at the emporium."

Their Mummy, in a loud voice "Jac!"

Da took off running after his girls. Hermione sighed and said "Mum, you're going to need two of you to pull them apart- make Petunia feel special. I know you don't want to leave us here, but Petunia needs you now, and I just need to get my wand." Her mummy gave her a strange look and Hermione knew that her response wasn't normal but she gave a final push. "We can make it to the emporium."

Penelope Evans looked at her with something like an apology on her lips and left. Hermione then turned back to Severus who had an odd look on his face, staring past Hermione.

The boy next to her had looked up. Concern was written into his soft features, but pink lines, raw and mostly unfinished wrote into his face from his forehead across his left eye down to the jawline of his cheek. He glanced back at Hermione, and worried his lip.

She registered his pale face like an arrow in her chest. She was overcome. He mistook her astonishment and looked away in shame. She remembered what he looked like as her friend, his warm honey brown eyes, unmistakable delicate jaw, the burgeoning of the shape of an older man's nose and chin.

She swallowed back thickness in her throat and smiled at him. She said, "Sorry, about that- my twin, and my sister I mean."

Ollivander said near out of reach of Hermione's ear, "Often times the truth is very difficult for people." Severus nearly rolled his eyes but he did tsk and say, "Sometimes the _truth_ , isn't really true at all but what must be."

Ollivander looked at the remaining box upon the shelf that had been flung off by the other wand. "Hmm… quite so… curious, I think. Curious."

Severus snapped, arms crossed on the platform, "What?"

Remus said quietly, "Don't be sorry. I'm sorry for your sister."

She wanted to get him to speak more, but was quite unused to making friends.

Ollivander looked at the wand in the box and said "Ebony, eleven and three quarter inches, unyielding in the handle yet-" Severus interrupted, "Here now."

Hermione matching the quiet tone Remus had, "My names Hermione Evans. What's yours?"

"Remus Lupin."

Before she could think of another question, the shop exploded in stardust which expanded in a ring and then retracted. Severus looked shocked and a little dazed but he recovered quickly, his brow furrowed as he looked at the wand in his hand.

Ollivander said, "Excellent."

Hermione looked at Remus and nudged him. "It's your turn now!"

Remus shook his head. Hermione attempted to look him in the face so that he would know that she didn't mind. He muttered "I don't want a turn."

"What? Why not?"

Remus turned away even as she tried to gently follow his face with her gaze.

Severus looked in his pouch and began to count out money and Ollivander placed a finger on the lip of the worn pouch and said "The kind muggle parents have purchased your wand, Severus." Some dark look flickered over Severus's face but Hermione missed the change in expression because she was looking at Remus.

Hermione said, with a knowledgeable kind of intuition "It's scary, but always try- you'll get back up."

Remus turned to her, eyes wide and his skin a little pale. Hermione smiled at him "Go ahead. Give yourself a chance. You'll get back up even better than you were."

Severus stood by Hermione, gripping his new wand that seemed too large for his small skinny frame, frown tight on his features.

Remus still, was hesitating, and Hermione said, "Unless you're waiting for your parents. Where are they anyway?"

Remus shook his head, "No, I don't want to wait for them." He got up and tossed his hair back from his eyes, tucking in the corner of his mouth in determination. Severus tsked. Clearly put out that they were going to have to wait longer.

Ollivander held out his arm as if he was directing him to the center of a stage. Halfway through his fitting, two people came into the door.

A soft looking woman, with curly, sandy blonde hair and brown eyes, made a sigh of relief when she caught sight of Remus having a wand snatched out of his grasp. She was dressed in a simple muggle button down brown dress patterned with tiny orange flowers. A man followed the woman in. He was thin in a similar fashion by his extremely prominent cheekbones, and dressed in what appeared to be a simple wizarding suit of neutral tones, with light brown hair. He had a mouth that seemed too long a line stretched into a tired smile. They seemed, together, a perfect blend of what she knew Remus would look like as an older gentleman.

Remus gave his mother a weak smile, but his eyebrows betrayed his nervousness.

The Lupins stood by the chairs and gave a glance over at Severus and Hermione and moved to stand a little closer them.

Severus whispered, "I don't see why you couldn't have gone next- we'd leave sooner.."

Hermione whispered back, "Hush, you."

Remus had one particularly noisome wand that gave a loud bang and he dropped it before Ollivander could take it away again. Everyone in the shop had jumped a little. Remus' mother turned towards Hermione and Severus, laughing a little "Ah Darlings! You're alright? That was quite a fright."

Remus flinched before accepting another wand, but a burst of warm yellow light like sunset filled the room with green sparks that looked like leaves.

Remus' father looked relieved, almost as if he had been given something he didn't deserve and his mother went to embrace him, squeezing him tightly and then moved to place a pouch of coins on Ollivanders desk. Remus looked up, his wand pointed outward still as if he didn't quite trust it next to himself. His father moved forward, placing his hand on Remus's head tenderly, then drew his son close fiercely.

Severus tsked in disgust, flicking his eyes away. Hermione reached out and touched him on his hand. "I think maybe Remus just didn't _know_ like you did."

Severus looked at her his face fixed in a mocking sneer, but Hermione sensed a rage with a raw edge to it.

Remus bashfully went up to Hermione and murmured, "Thank you. It was nice meeting you, Hermione."

His parents had followed him and his father said in a tone that Hermione could not quite detect, "Remus, did you make new friends?"

The shy boy colored all the way down to his roots. His mother said even quieter, "Darling, please." Addressing the children before her more clearly, "Hello dears, I'm Mrs. Lupin, and this is my husband Mr. Lupin. Where are your parents?"

Hermione said "They're with my sisters- we're to meet up with them and a friend at an emporium." Severus remained quiet and stiff, and didn't look at the Lupins.

Ollivander waved for her to come forward, and she got up off her chair and with a blossoming excitement in her heart stepped forward. Remus's parents exchanged a few quiet words with one another before trying to engage with Severus. She heard a question to which he grumbled, crossed his arms and glared. Remus was watching her and gave her a little encouraging smile.

Wand after wand was given to her, and she waited for the right one, to have _her_ wand once again. She had waited this long, but her heart was jumping in her chest in excitement and she didn't know if she could wait much longer.

Nothing unexpected happened, she had a bit more self control than most children subconsciously, but especially now that she was familiarising herself with wandless magic. It felt like a forest of wands was given to her and taken away, some she barely grazed with her fingertips, but then, a wand "Holly, Dragonheart string, ten and a half inches-"

She smiled and took it, opening herself to her tool, but a tight wind wrapped around the handle and it slipped away- shooting out of her grasp. Ollivander caught it.

Her face dropped, flabbergasted. Opening and shutting her mouth she stood there.

Ollivander said succinctly, "Clearly...not."

Hermione's stomach dropped, she felt as if the first drop of water near her mouth in a desert was snatched away. Ollivander placed more wands into her hand, each a betrayal. She felt abjected with each of them, they felt wrong and in her hand she felt dissent from each of them. With her heart beating fast, her emotions unguarded, the wands reacted.

Runes flashed over the walls in the store, startling Remus so much that he bumped into his mother attempting to get away from the walls. The next wand, shut everything up tight, the windows slammed the door locked. Ollivander nearly smacked that wand right out of her hand. Hermione was trying very hard not to look misty eyed and tried to accept that she was no longer the person that her wand had chosen. Ollivander delicately placed another in her hand, but something rumbled underneath the wood panels and shook the floor.

Hermione dropped it.

"Hmm, perhaps…" Ollivander went into the alleys and disappeared for a little while. Hermione looked at an increasingly irritable Severus and the young face of Remus who was looking at her with encouragement.

Ollivander came back with a box and Hermione's heart skipped a beat. He revealed the wand inside and she could feel her throat close up, the pulse in her throat. It was Harry's wand.

She stared at the wand in the box, her curls surrounding her face, usually kept contained with her ribbon grew frizzy. Electricity filled the air around her. But she wasn't truly seeing anything save the wand in the box. Ollivander held it up slowly to her. She swallowed, and didn't move. If she accepted this wand, it would be more than she could bear. For it would mean that she accepted the destiny that she and she alone would be Voldemort's downfall.

Flashes of Voldemort's snake like face, of pale stretched skin molded into a horrific visage of joy. Slashes of green and black light. Heart pounding. Harry's face, smattered with blood and filth, green eyes lit with fierce determination, grief in his voice as it ripped from his throat.

Snapping back into the shop she saw the tense face of Severus, Remus who was pinching his face in anxiety. Two wizards who watched her appraisingly. Ollivanders pale blue eyes, his soft wrinkled face, held with a feigned openness. She could see his curiosity burgeoning greedily as she refused to raise her hand to the wand.

She felt it couldn't be possible. Hermione had to believe that Harry would be the same boy that she loved in the past in the future. That he would be fighting for what's right, to live, and live again no matter what life he had. She wasn't just fighting against Voldemort, she was fighting against what made the War possible. She was going to triumph over the injustices that fractured into the pieces that made up the war.

She swallowed, and reached for the wand.

* * *

1- _caru :_ dearest

Since this is technically part one of a segment, I could be persuaded to update sooner if you dropped a line as to what has convinced you to read this far.


	6. 1: I : 5 : Happenstance

**Act I: Childhood**

 _:_ _We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over._ _:_ Ray Bradbury

In which light begins to flicker.

 _Chapter 5, Happenstance_

* * *

The Lupins escorted the children out of the shop.

Mr. Lupin, looking both ways down the street, said, "It is the least we could do to escort you down to the Emporium. In Ollivanders it is safe, but Diagon Alley has gone a bit- well… Diagonally." He looked down at the children with a crooked smile.

Hermione giggled, Severus chuffed and Remus plaintively said, "Da-ad."

Mrs. Lupin turned to her husband and with a little backhanded pat on his shoulder reprimanded him, "Lyall -now don't go embarrassing your son... in front of his new ff-riends." The parents smiled mistily.

Hermione spent the time walking getting accustomed to her wand.

She had been handed a different wand, and it felt like a friend she had never met, standing up with her, standing by with loyalty that had been hard won and would be hard lost. At eleven inches, it was one inch longer than her last wand. It was a true line but not straight.

She looked at the seamless grains in the wood. The handle was carved so that the chaotic lacework in contrasting shades of darkest brown and palest straw, curved so that it never blended except upon the wands tip. Heavier certainly, more sharp. It was unwieldy, she thought.

Mr. Lupin said to her gruffly but not unkindly, "You'll grow into it."

Hermione looked at him, and lowered her wand hand. At least it was balanced well.

They were properly escorted to the Emporium where Hermione saw her family. They were sitting just outside at Florean Fortescue's cute little ice cream parlor, under the red swirly umbrellas, shaded barely from the sunshine. Lily and Petunia looked as if they had red rims around slightly swollen eyes, and each of them had a small cone in their hands. They didn't seem happier for it. Their parents were splitting a sundae. They looked to be still in conversation, and so Hermione decided to pull on Severus's sleeve and direct him into a door that was next to the owl emporium. She didn't think that introducing more people to the tense family conversation would help much right now.

She needed to think of something that Petunia could have that would make her feel magical, something that she could have for herself.

Mr. and Mrs. Lupin followed them inside, looking expectantly for their parents to present themselves.

Inside it was boisterous and busy, not with customers, but with the sheer number of colors and sounds from creatures. The only patrons were a very proper looking Victorian woman, a young boy at her side and two boys with dark clothing and black hair.

The proper witch had a frilly hat and stiff robes and looked to be in possession of a boy who looked quite about to whinge. She was speaking with a witch behind the counter.

The attendant looked to be the only keeper of the creatures; a range of frogs, toads, snakes, lizards, cats, spiders, mokes, puffskein, kneazles. Suspiciously absent were dogs, Hermione thought with a trace of curiosity remembering McGonagall's words.

The two other boys in the shop were leaning over a pen on the far right side, and were very involved with whatever inhabiting it.

Mr. and Mrs. Lupin looked at Hermione expectantly, but she blinked up at them innocently and said, "They'll be along shortly, I'm sure of it."

Severus flicked his eyes over to his friend, but stayed stiff and mostly un-cooperative. She was sure he had spotted Lily, and was sore Hermione was keeping him away from her. Well, he was here at least and was along with whatever plan she had made for them both- she glared bossily.

Mrs. Lupin said, "Well, we'll have a look around then and we'll wait for them, won't we?" Mr. Lupin looked down at his son, who was curiously sticking his finger into a pen that housed the large fluffy balls off the Puffskein.

Hermione cooed, "They look really soft."

Remus said, "This is a Puffskein. They're really fun to play around with, but they need a lot of attention." He looked up at his father who gave him a small but proud smile.

Severus sneered. "What's the _point_ of it?"

Remus looked over, nervously "...Well, they just need someone to show them love, then they can live for ages... but they like to eat bogeys and sneak up on unsuspecting wizards and stick their tongue inside their noses."

Severus looked entirely disgusted with the buttercream ball that looked up at the soft prodding of Remus's finger. It's huge eyes blinked and looked at Severus. Severus shuddered and stated, "Let's look at snakes."

They obliged, and left Mr. and Mrs. Lupin to look at the mokes held in the window of tropical terrariums which had been fitted with giant magnifying glasses.

The three moved over to where the two boys were around a little pen that read in fuzzy letters with a playful string coiling underneath _Kneattins_.

It was located right by big glassy bubbles that housed snakes in a terrarium of branches and ponds. She tried looking over the two black haired boys shoulders. In doing so she could not help but notice their dress. Clothes slightly reminiscent of an age long past. They were wearing quite a lot of cloth, the larger boy wearing a coat with a large collar that she thought was strange to wear in the summer. The youngest was wearing what appeared to be a white collar shirt with no buttons and shorts that extended into suspenders. They both wore shiny shoes. For summer, wizards wore a good deal of winter clothing, Hermione thought with the scathingness only the truly practical have. Without any real malice, but judging them dismissively.

She attempted to look past all that clothing and into the pen. The boys were probably two years apart in age and the older one said, "No Regs- The Mother is not going to even think about letting us have one."

They dangled twine in front of the the Kneattins, whatever those were, she thought. She turned as Remus pointed out a few snakes that were descended from magical origin, and mentioned some tidbits of lore.

She looked at him, impressed that he was so good at magical creatures at such a young age.

Letting it color her tone with him, though it was really the impressedness of a grown Hermione, instead of an awe inspired peer, she asked, "How do you know so much?"

Remus shrugged and looked proud despite himself, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

Severus sighed with a heavy pang of condescension. "None of these are poisonous."

Hermione rolled her eyes "Why would they be, Severus? This isn't a ' _Breed Dark and Deadly Familiars for All your Dark Wizard Child Needs Shoppe'_. That would be grossly irresponsible."

The two boys next to them snickered and looked over their shoulders. Hermione sideways glanced over at them. The eldest boy raised one eyebrow she could see through the black hair hanging in front of his light eyes. He had dramatic eyebrows, already pronounced with a wolfish grin that split his face lopsidedly. It wasn't until Remus asked, "What's a Ke-neat-tin? I know quite a few creatures and I don't recall ever learning about those." To that both boys turned to the trio.

When they did, her heart stopped again for the day. Hermione took a step back.

Sirius Black laughed in a burst that was too high to be a bark but it was painfully similar. The younger boy next to him, with much shorter hair brushed and looked pomaded into place said, "They're kittens! But kneazles!"

"Regs, you mean that they're half kneazles." Sirius said smartly and glancing at Hermione, but speaking to Remus, "They're supposed to be wicked smart, but way easier to keep than a kneazle. Also, not as 'attack friendly.'"

Hermione said, a little breathy, "But just as good of a character judge." Hermione's heart was pounding, her hands twisting up. She slid her eyes from the little Sirius to the orange and yellow fur balls mewling and pouncing on one another.

Remus smiled and bent over to look at them. Severus looked over at Hermione, an expression of attempting to make a judgement screwing up his face.

Hermione tried blinking normally, and tried not to well up with emotion at seeing Sirius alive. So _young_ , she reminded herself. Seeing both Remus and Sirius together made her carefully suppressed emotions waver. She began focusing on the little pen. This Sirius wasn't the man she knew, helped rescue- who had howled at Pettigrew, who saluted her sadly as she left the doorstep of Grimmauld place. He wasn't the man she watched fall through the Veil. He was just a kid with a rebellious tilt to his head. She really ought to be more prepared for this kind of thing.

She stood next to Remus and looked down to see a orange kitten. It had tiger stripes in light orange with a little yellow ring around his head like a lion's mane and a strangely long tail which ended in a poof. It's big yellow green eyes locked with hers out of a squashed face and she gasped and cried out, overwhelmed, "Aww!"

The little cat kneazle meowed in response, and she held out her hand and it promptly shoved his head into her hand and put his paws up on her forearm. She reached out with both hands and brought in the little fuzzy body and the kitten crawled up and sat at her neck and nuzzled her.

She closed her misting eyes and felt the soft fur on her skin and attempted to regain the mind of the child that she was now instead of the child she had been.

Sirius placed a hand on his little brothers face who was urgently whispering very clearly,"But the Lady said no- we couldn't, she shouldn't- but Se-eri-iu-us-s why can she do tha-at, Sirius, Sirius, Sirius-s..."

Severus said, "Cat's aren't very useful."

Hermione glared at him good naturedly, because she couldn't possibly be upset when her little Crookshanks was purring like a motor at her neck.

Sirius looked at Severus, and the grey eyed boy said, "Well, you're probably not very useful either."

Severus bristled.

Hermione was taken aback at the quickness, and the snideness in Sirius' voice. She said, almost as if she were commentating a film, "What a mean thing to say."

Sirius shrugged and smirked, "I could have thought of worse, and besides, the proper thing to have said would be ' _A lady knows what she wants'_ -"

Severus sputtered with disbelief. "A _ **lady**_?"

Remus looked at Hermione's kitten that had wrapped itself around her like a fluffy collar and said, "I think it's the familiar that chooses. Like wands." He looked at her gently with a smile and then hopefully stuck his finger out to let the kneattin smell him.

Sirius eyed the blonde kid, "Yeah. I don't know about that. What's with that anyway? We're wizards, not supposed to be bossed about by the small fluffy creatures of the world." Crookshanks batted at Remus' finger as if he was expecting the digit to jump out at him suddenly.

Severus sneered, "You're a wizard? Could have fooled me." Hermione shook her head, Severus was just latching onto one feeling and driving forward, attempting to get a knife jab into Sirius' confidence which clearly irritated him.

Sirius titled his head down, and leaned back. "Oh yeah? You think you're a better wizard? You-" whatever insult he had on the tip of his tongue was bitten off by Severus's snarl.

"Yes, and I can prove it too - with a duel."

Remus yelped, "What?" Crookshanks gave out a high pitched mewl in agreeance.

Hermione put a hand on Severus's shoulder. "Severus, go get Lily."

He shoved off her hand and spat " _Don't_ **boss** me."

Much to Hermione's horror, the proper Victorian woman and her child were coming over to where they were standing. Stern face, her eyebrows brooking no argument, a younger version of Madame Augustus Longbottom said crisply, "Now, boys, where is that Uncle of yours? I have been carting you around- attempting to make sure that your noses are as far out of trouble as I can get the Black noses, and I have just about concluded my business." The last part sounded like she had just concluded her patience.

Sirius looked as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with his hands, and twitched his nose around as if he wanted to respond to Severus, but knew better than to start in with Madam Longbottom glaring down at them.

Regulus cast his face downward and put his hands behind his back, but furrowed his eyebrows.

The matron said sharply, "Now who are these unattended youngsters?"

Hearing the pronounced disapproval in the esteemed lady's voice, Mr. and Mrs. Lupin near scrambled over to prove that the children were not unattended.

Mr. Lupin stated, "We're waiting for the parents to arrive, we escorted them after an ….urgent family matter arose, Madam Longbottom."

Madam Longbottom drew herself up as she was regarding the Lupins. After a time she inclined her head and said "It is good to see you out Mr. Lupin," she turned to Mrs. Lupin deliberately, "-and Mrs. Lupin."

She peered down at the children once more and smiled, with true warmth,"I see your little son has grown up."

Mr. Lupin didn't seem to meet her eyes much and looked down much of the time, he said "Your boy Frank looks grown as well."

Hermione felt that there was an undercurrent here, something written in Remus's drawn in bottom lip and pale face and in his parents clear strain. Something that she was not privy to as a young adult in her time, would have no way of knowing as a young child here, but yet knew that it was in reference to his disease. She nudged Severus who looked as if he was barely restraining himself from attacking Sirius, and attempted to tilt her head to the door meaningfully as Crookshanks prowled around her shoulders. Severus glared at her.

She huffed and attempted to take the kitten off of her neck. Crookshanks dug his needle like claws into her shirt and quite pointedly refused. She raised an eyebrow at Severus, and he attempted to return it. She pointed to the kitten whom, helpfully, meowed plaintively.

He rolled his eyes and stomped off outside. Sirius watching him go with narrowed eyes, was snapped out of it when the gentleman she finally knew as Alphard, Uncle Alphard, Sirius' favorite Uncle, came into the store. Relief rippled across his face briefly as he moved towards them, controlling his long black outer robe carefully, revealing the silver and lighter blue colors beneath.

Alphard said with emphasis, "Thank you Madam Longbottom, I am grateful the boys were swept up in your illustrious care."

Madam Longbottom tilted her head up and said "Ah, Alphard." She looked down her nose at him. "Your little hoodlums were lollygagging in the middle of the main street."

Alphard made a cocksided nod to the boys and raised one eyebrow. "Ah, I see."

Sirius had a small smirk on his face, and Regulus looked up and said, "I know you said that we have to do what old ladies tell us but we didn't-" Sirius nudged into Regulus and hissed, "Shut up."

Hermione bit her lip to muffle the giggle. Remus however still appeared to be off put by whatever comment the Madame of the most noble house of Longbottom made.

Madam Longbottom gave a little huff with her nose and said, "As much of a pleasure as it usually is Alphard. Good-day. To you as well, Mr. and Mrs. Lupin." With that she gripped Frank's hand, who looked as if he was sucking on something sour, and she marched out of the shop.

Alphard looked to the Lupins, after a period of dazed silence between people and said, "Ah, Lyall, old friend. How are you?"

Mr. Lupin said "Oh, a little worse for wear from the force of nature that was Madame Longbottom, Master Alphard, but otherwise I am fair."

Alphard said, "Good, good-" and turned his attention with his arms none so jaunty a work as akimbo, but sternly disciplinary, as best as he could still hold his outer robes. "Boys, I did say not to leave the steps."

Sirius said, "Yes, but Uncle, she's….she's right scary. Almost as scary as Mother, but you said she was to be trusted so-"

Their Uncle gave a barking laugh and Hermione had to physically resist smacking herself in the forehead from her utter stupidity at not recognizing that laugh.

The door to the shop opened, Severus and Jac Evans walked inside. Jac looking around with a curious expression, and Severus' distinctly displeased. The skinny black haired boy just pointed to Hermione, and moved to go back outside, but the Evans' Da corralled him forward.

Severus paid little attention to Sirius, but acquiesced because he was more or less taken with Alphard's reappearance.

Mr. Evans after some brief introductions and greetings looked at the orange ball of fluff nestled at Hermione's neck and looked at her,"A cat, caru?"

Hermione said, "He's not a cat."

Crookshanks turned his squashed face and luminescent eyes towards Hermione's Da, and gave a merw and crawled up to perch amidst the tent of curls between Hermione's shoulder and neck.

Mr. Lupin spoke quietly, with an informative tone, "I'm not sure if you know Mr. Evans, but a witch and wizard sometimes find familiars at a young age. Magical creatures generally display a kinship with their witch or wizard. This creature is notorious for being...well, exclusive? "

Mr. Evans shook his head, a slow smile spreading across his features. "O'course. Your sister is set on getting her owl, she's with your Mum and your sister at the Owl Emporium."

The witch at the counter was watching the interaction expectantly and was politely congenial until Hermione introduced herself and complimented the witch on her excellent care of the animals here.

The witch was on the youthful side of middle aged, with brown blonde hair and pale brown eyes that crinkled a good deal with her smile when she said pleasantly, "My name is Meagan Hammond, and I appreciate that you noticed. I see you have a fierce little Kneattin there as your own. How wonderful- it's so hard to find fits for the little rascals you know." She looked at Mr. Evans and said, "It'll be five galleons, since he's going to be what I know will be a wonderful addition to your family."

Mr. Evans pulled out the the little sack of galleons once more. Hermione considered briefly before asking "Da? Can we get Petunia a puffskein?"

Her Da looked at her and then directed a question to the witch Hammond. "Isn't that...dangerous? To give a non-magical child a magical animal?"

Meagan cocked her head, and considered for a moment. Alphard called out, as he shepherded out three black haired boys of the shop, "I'll be reuniting everyone outside for a moment. Perhaps after this we'll stop for lunch?"

Mr. Evans nodded and raised his hand in confirmation. Meagan Hammond said "Puffskeins are commonly eaten ... by carnivorous creatures due to their passive natures."

Mr. Lupin stilled as he opened the door for his family.

The witch continued in a low voice "I'm a muggleborn you see-" She glanced behind them at the door, "And it's frowned upon to relinquish class two magical creatures to muggles, but I don't see the harm in acquiring our little puffskeins for a non-magical sibling."

Mr. Lupin stayed a while longer and stood a little far from the counter, he said, "It is currently against Ministry Law to place a magical creature in the care of a muggle- _non-magical_ individual. However, since it would be released to your two magical daughters, I see no harm in your puffskein staying inside the house... for a time."

Hermiones's Da turned to Hermione and said with a little bit of a wink, "Would you like to pick out - er the puff- yurself caru?"

* * *

The two Evanses exited the shop shortly and collected the rest of their group. The Lupins bid them farewell as they had already gathered all of the items that they would need, and parted on good terms with one another. Mrs. Penelope Evans and Mrs. Hope Lupin traded telephone numbers since Hope Lupin, too, was a muggle with a magical child.

Hermione held the Puffskein away from Crookshanks, who was batting at it. She went up to Petunia, who was petulant and silent still, and proffered the Puffskein. It was lilac grey, with deep blue eyes and blinked slowly. Petunia stared at it.

Hermione said, "It's yours."

Petunia didn't move, and continued to stare. Lily was watching a little back from Hermione, and was biting her lip.

It watched her, and the elder girl twitched a smile. Petunia slowly reached out for the spherical creature and her hands sank deep into the fluffy fur of it. She brought it close to her chest and stroked it and it began to purr vibrantly and a smile spread across her whole face.

Severus and Sirius stood as far away from each other as they could, and Alphard showed the Evans's family around. They purchased all the items quickly with not much fuss except in the potions and cauldrons supply shop which Severus was longingly fascinated by, to the final shop they would need to gather supplies; Flourish and Blotts.

Sirius and Regulus surrounded Hermione on either side, while Severus admired Lily's owl she was proudly carrying. Petunia had gone to show her Mummy what she had gotten and they were taking turns cooing over the fluff ball.

There were quite a few families bumping elbows vying to get into line to purchase books. Inside, there was an older wizard and his two shopkeeping assistants attempting to move Hogwarts textbooks around and securing purchases.

There were so many people inside that Hermione decided that perhaps she should remain outside, Severus eagerly delved into the shop, dragging Lily along, who just barely had time to place her owl cage down. Crookshanks dutifully sat upon Hermione's lap, to glare out at all of the passing book patrons. Sirius and Regulus stayed outside as well, Regulus claiming that he wanted to be friends with Crookshanks and Sirius saying he wasn't too interested in books.

Alphard had remained in the bookshop entrance, simultaneously keeping an eye on the children and the Muggles inside.

Hermione watched as Regulus tried to distract Crookshanks from his vigilance and giggled at his failed attempts. Petunia, after hovering at the entrance her Puffskein clutched in her arms, decided to sit on the steps just to the side of the entrance as well.

Sirius crouched down by Hermione, but before he said anything Crookshanks suddenly stood up, his back arched, and his fur raising as if static passed over him.

Hermione looked up, gripped her wand in her hand tighter and scanned the population before her. Sirius, looking at Crookshanks and watching Hermione's tension rise, asked "What's wrong?" He followed her eyesight and stood up. Petunia furrowed her brows as well.

The same three men whose eyes she had felt on her family had shown themselves. They were not together as a group, but one was leaning against the small gap between buildings by the bookshop.

She saw a second wizard edge up. Tall, blonde haired, his thin lips moved and a small force made something inside collapse. A shriek was heard from inside the bookstore.

She looked and one clearly had his eyes on the children and the other one had his on the door way- where Alphard no longer stood sentry.

It was as if a cold feather slid up Hermione's back. She said, "Petunia, go inside. Sirius take Regulus inside, find your Uncle."

Petunia looked up, about to be obstinate, but Hermione hissed, "Now."

Sirius cast an odd glance in her direction and she put Crookshanks into Regulus's arms and pointed to the cage and said "Go." She ran off, heading almost straight for the one who had been watching them.

Keeping her eyes trained on the brown haired, neatly coiffed wizard who raised his upper lip in some amount of unexpected confusion. She darted to place herself out of his vision behind a witch passing by, and risked a glance behind her to see if her sister and the Black boys went to get Alphard. She saw her sister standing upon the top steps, with a look of confusion agape on her face- frustration and anger rushed through Hermione. The tallest wizard raised his wand again, she whisper shot a _bombarda minima_ at his hand. She felt the magic she had called upon wandlessly rise easily, eagerly, but she turned before she could see whether it got his attention, slipped through the scattered people and darted towards the small alleyway. Staying behind the corner of the wall she gathered up as much concentration as she could and mouthed _a precado_ at the wizard in the alley. He flew forwards, and it dragged him forward down into the damp dirty alley space between the buildings. She ran and slipped past him, throwing a glance behind her shoulder as she made the curve.

The tall wizard appeared in the narrow gap of the alleyway, looking at his fallen comrade who had long curly hair in front of his face. Hermione put on a burst of speed and thudded side to side on the uneven cobblestones. She took a millisecond to take in her surroundings, so that she wouldn't corner herself. Hermione spotted a bigger opening in the straight away from the back of the shops in Diagon Alley, and with ease, shifting her body, she sprinted towards the opening, aware of the slick bottoms of her shoes, her high sock drooping down to her right ankle, blood rushing into her head.

Hearing, rather than seeing two of the three men huff and growl after her, she knew that they were close. A spell hissed out of one of their mouths. She fell forward allowing it to explode over her body as she tumbled with her momentum. She popped back up thankful that her bookish body had to rely on the power of her mind to execute the evasive maneuver which Harry had done almost by instinctive muscle memory.

She filed away muscle memory, and building it, for later.

Her dress was filthy now, and so was her hair. She willed herself to float and leapt to the side.

She was too focused on avoiding the wizards to feel relief, but that wouldn't stop her from a victorious surge from her success. With no resistance, she slid right into the alleyway, floating above the debris and trash. She cast a cloud cover spell as she had when evading the hunters, and thick obscuring mist flooded from the water residue on the ground and collected from nearby houses, billowing in gauzy waves out from her.

She was still sliding forward upon air.

She smirked as she heard shouts of confusion and verbal curses.

The mist did two things: it hid her from view and also taunted her pursuers more- causing them to think they were almost upon their prey.

She tapped her head with her wand and whispered to disillusion herself, then cast a few more advanced curses to sting the walls. Her wand was responding well but she could feel an odd sort of drain. Right now she was operating off of adrenaline and she knew something was going wrong.. She was glad the complicated trap ward movements had come back more easily than her memories of setting up camp with the boys.

She tapped and kicked her shoes against the stone wall until she could drift up the stones.

People peered out of their homes, others had their windows shutting, some of the more brazen shouting out of their windows, wands drawn. She hung illusory, fingertips pinching on the stone, and made sure she was out of earshot by looking around, and then muttered one of the warding spells Draco had actually taught to her after he and Ron had a truce of sorts.

Her heart seized briefly but she strong armed through the feeling and let a rivulet of liquid magic run down in the stone.

When one of the three wizards passed over the line, waving his wand in front of his face to clear the smoky mist, he was bound with sheets of liquid, whipping around his body and slapping over his mouth his curls drifting up inside the liquid as if he submerged in water. Before the spell had finished rushing upon him, she concentrated once more and shot _petrificus totalus_ upon the coiffed wizard behind with her wand. It felt sluggish, slow, like trying to drink pudding through a straw. The curly haired wizard groaned as he hit the stone floor again and the perfectly coiffed wizard hit the ground not a second later, no longer clean. The tall wizard with pale blonde hair, sent a red whirlwind ripping down the small alleyway, tearing down her wards, snarled "A trap! _Liberate_!"

He apparated away, a subsequent crack following him as the _liberate_ had freed his companions from the grip of petrification, which Hermione tsked at herself. Her spells weren't working.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and quickly left, propelling herself forward, her thoughts going just as quickly as she returned.

* * *

Her family had been searching for her in the crowds and someone had seen the giant cloud of smoke, recognized a dark curse and alerted the authorities. The Ministry Official was mildly fat, mostly keeping it all in a hard belly. He had a ruddy face, with dark brown hair, an interestingly shaped nose, with prominent lips. He had introduced himself as Barrett Triche.

She had ran to their calls, tearful, which wasn't too difficult to pretend excepting that she had pretended she didn't need to cry for so long she was unsure what kind of long term effect this adrenaline cry would have on her. Her body was shaking, she realized, as she was held by her parents. Though her mind may have well been prepared for the stress of battle, her body was unused to the cortisol and epinephrine filling her small frame.

She tried to stay as quiet as possible and put off answering any questions until she had decided on the right approach. She said that she ran from three bad men.

Alphard had remained with them, Lily next to Hermione on her Mummys hip, Severus by Lily. Regulus was holding Sirius's hand and they stood next to Alphard. Sirius had his eyebrows drawn together and Regulus looked as if he was told to be quiet and wasn't happy about it.

Their Da stood by his wife and his children. Triche had suggested that the group should move away from prying eyes to the Leaky Cauldron. Relieved, her Da agreed that it would be a good idea since they hadn't yet eaten. Hermione was a little dazed, jumbled up, everything was moving forward in a cloudy haze, locked inside of her head once more. She was looking around, scanning for danger, not precisely registering what was currently happening because she was thinking, questioning.

How had the Wizards been so brazen to attack in a crowded street? Who, precisely, was their target? If they had been following them, wouldn't they have known that Alphard was with them? She needed to find out who those wizards were, what it was their agenda had been that had made them so powerful, so confident that they would attack, without masks, in the open street.

For another matter, what was she to do immediately?

She was lying to her family, to everyone. She disliked it, but what was she to say- that she charged forth and distracted them with spells she shouldn't have been able to cast, with knowledge she shouldn't have known? Revealing any hint of herself would be worse than unwise, especially in front of a Ministry official.

Perhaps she could have done better, thinking back to all of the books she had been reading regarding tactics, she had been reckless. Reverted straightaway to being reactive, just as Harry had led them to do.

Risky, but she had done it because she wasn't going to risk even one casualty, one mistake and making sure that her attackers were aggravated, off guard and underestimating her was the best that she could do while attempting to remain out of sight. She felt that her goal had been getting them away from her family and making sure she had stayed hidden. If anything, they should have been under the impression that there was another spellcaster present. Much beyond that, she wasn't sure, though next time she felt she needed to gather information.

Hermione, ever so used to an overabundance of Ministry officials, thought it was strange that there was only one Ministry official that showed up, and that he was so quick to suggest sequestering them.

Alphard seemed to be perfectly cordial, but when the Ministry official turned to lead them into the Leaky Cauldron, it seemed that he wished to say something to her Da. He spoke lowly to his two nephews and kept his eyes on the Official. Sirius tightened up with his little brother, and Regulus looked as serious as a child of his age could be. Hermione was only seeing this because she was watching him from behind where her mother's blonde hair fell in waves behind her. Petunia was holding onto her Puffskein, rubbing her face in it's body, worried next to their Mummy.

They entered the pub. Triche went up to Tom and spoke lowly and urgently. Tom looked past the official with concern, then directed them to a private room saying that he would bring by some bangers and mash.

They sat down in one of the private rooms, and the Ministry official took the head chair. Triche said, in a practiced voice, "Now, I know you've all had a tough experience. I would just like to let you know that the Ministry of Magic takes this sort of thing very seriously. I would like to ask Hermione what happened."

Hermione had already decided that the less she could state about what happened the less she could be quizzed about; and if Triche did end up speaking with one of the wizards that had almost attacked there would be more questions she couldn't answer.

Petunia cried to her, "You said to go inside, you saw something- you said, and you said to go and get Mr. Alphard, but I didn't know why -and your face," Lily made a little gasping sound, as if going to say something but let her elder sister speak and take the lead. Regulus reached over across the table and held out his hand, but Severus was there glaring at him at his usual post by Lily and prodded her.

Hermione looked at the Ministry Officials face, watched his eyes focus in on hers, and cast her eyes downward. She was not going to take chances, especially since she had not yet learned Occlumency well despite Dracos brief instruction and she had not adequately prepared.

Hermione said in a small voice, "I felt… something come over me. It pulled me forward like it was walking me."

Her Mummy rubbed her shoulders and looked with wide tearful eyes to her husband. He placed a hand on hers and looked at her with low eyebrows. "We knew it was going to be a scary and dangerous world, Penelo. We just want to know why it seemed like someone attacked the bookshop and chased my wee Rose. Is it political? Why weren't we told of this?"

Trishe looked to her parents, "Perhaps we should move this to a different room so that the children can enjoy their meal and think nothing more of it."

Alphard cut in, and got up. "I think I should like to accompany you."

Triche said, "There is no need Master Alphard."

Alphard opened the door and said, "Ah you know me Triche, I shan't be swayed."

Triche sighed heavily and moved himself from the chair and her parents did the same though her Mummy placed a kiss upon her head.

They stepped outside and shut the door, but while Hermione was looking around at her siblings and peers she was attempting to listen to the words said outside.

Regulus said, "I got Uncle Alphard, Sirius wanted to go and follow you."

Lily, her face all scrunched up, "I was inside, there was a lot of people inside, but all the books blast out and some of them fell onto people and melted-" Her voice was getting higher until it broke.

Petunia said, "I **knew** it, magic is _bad_."

Hermione was trying to listen to the conversation outside, but had only gotten fractions that she thought she heard.

Sirius looked at Petunia his mouth screwed up but before his manners broke, Severus spat at her, "Muggles are bad, Muggles are the ones who are mean and horrible without magic. It just makes them worse-" Lily shrilly said, "My parents are Muggles, Severus!"

Hermione whispered, "Quiet."

Tom had apparently decided that it was a good moment to bring the food out, and Hermione, exasperated, sighed. Tom gave a toothy smile, crooked teeth and all and said, "'Allo there, I brought out some mash n' bangers for you buckets."

Her stomach rumbled, smelling the meat and the gravy and butter wafting off the steaming plates.

Triche, peered into the doorway, his hands upon his hips, wand out. She put her hands on the table, her wand in her hand, and slowly got up. Tom made eye contact with her and she smiled at him, as best she could, thanked him and stepped outside.

Hermione nodded, detailing one of the wizards fully, the curly haired one left behind. Hermione remained open, docile, vulnerable with her body language. Attempting to omit any information she could. For her wand and the spells that it had cast, she described her wand being taken yet despite this outright deceit, she stuck to the truth as close as possible, and even included that she had flown. She explained that then she felt scared she found that she had begun to fly but attributed it to unintended magic.

Alphard hovered around them with his hand up near his chin watching the interactions thoughtfully.

The Ministry official listened attentively, nodding and making some noises for assurance. He said, "Terrible experience for one so young, I am sorry that you had to get caught up in that."

Alphard cut in, voice like silk and smooth, "Yes, it is regrettable but perhaps they should be informed of the reason _why_ , Officer?"

Triche looked at Alphard through his eyebrows contorted quite severely that matched his body language. He breathed in, not the most simple of tasks for him from the noises his breath made deep in his body and with his breath out, "Earlier your assumption that it was political, is correct…" The Official put a hand over his mouth and rubbed his bottom lip. "We've been working with some Muggle authorities on some of the... incidents that have been happening. I will not lie to you, it is dangerous. We're doing our best to protect Muggleborn children and Muggles-" He drifted off looking closely at the Evans' faces. He commanded, "Tell me, you having second thoughts regarding Hogwarts?"

Hermione blurted out, "No!"

Her Da looked down at her, and her Mummy pressed her lips together. It looked like they were about to say something against Hogwarts but she couldn't let them think that sending she and Harry's mother, her twin, to school was anything other than the right thing to do.

If it wasn't for her presence, if it wasn't for the small things that she had made happen- they wouldn't have been in Diagon Alley long enough to attract the attention of the three Wizards.

Lily and Severus had stood up crying out various protestations.

Hermione looked up at her parents and said "We can't _not_ go to Hogwarts- that's exactly what they want-" She cut herself off and made a frustrated sound instead of explaining that they need to know how to use magic, how to control it, and defend themselves from people like today. "You can't not have us go!"

Her Da paused for a moment, looked at his wife and put his hands on his girls heads. He said, voice thick, " An Evans wouldn't back down from a fight they knew they could win." He hugged them tightly and Alphard said, "I think that will be all, your Officiate, my gratitude for your helpful presence here."

"Master Black, I believe there is some matters still yet to be resolved-"

"I think not. There is no longer any need for your services, I have taken this kind family under my protection so there is no further obligation for your wand arm of the law to be present."

"Master Black-" Triche growled, impatience flickering in his jowls.

Innocently, and with an air of etiquette that perhaps was the first time Hermione sensed insincerity from Alphard Black, "Yes, Official Triche?"

Her Mummy and Da picked up and placed Lily and Hermione back inside the private dining area and shepherded Severus inside as well. They closed the door and immediately the sound went out. Hermione said, "Bollocks." vehemently.

Petunia sniffed and said, "I'm telling Mummy you said that word."

Hermione, feeling very uncharitable at the moment said, "Shut up." She got her fork and stabbed it into the still steaming bangers.

Severus snarled, "You'd have to say the word to tattle on her, Petty Petunia."

Petunia stuck out her tongue. Sirius snickered and then tilted his head up to Hermione. "So, I'll see you at Hogwarts?"

Lily reached out and snagged Hermione's hand and they said, "Definitely."


	7. 0: I : 6 : Drift

**Act Parallel I: Lost**

 _:_ _When we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago:_ Friedrich Nietzsche

 _ **In which Draco**_

thinks he sees Harry, and notices something odd with time.

 _ **In which Harry**_

adds to his legend and resents it.

 _Chapter 6: Drift_

* * *

Draco returned to his Manor because he couldn't stand to be outside in the streets any longer. The Ministry where he had searched for answers had given him nothing he was looking for, and everything he wasn't

The government was running quite fine- the bureaucracy was still in place, he thought calculatedly.

He had no idea what was transpiring in other people's lives, but he had seen no one he could trust. People had treated him with befitting a Malfoy as his father would have it.

He couldn't say that he didn't feel guilty, nor that he felt as badly as he once did- as he should.

There didn't seem to be anything remiss with _his_ life. How could he be sure that others were having such a hard time of it? How could he be sure that everything that he remembered wasn't some awful dream? That all was right with the world and that things were as they should be. That this was the right way to go about doing things. It made sense.

Pure-blooded wizards were given rights, respect and domination over those who were born beneath their station. Draco thought of Ron. The Weasley that he had grown indebted towards. The same man who had given him cues and pointers because - a blue eyed smile that promised danger- he was 'really not going to overlook seven years of bollocking up as a promising start' to his tactical decisions. Ron would be shite at being a lord, he thought with a snigger.

Then, he had heard something wretched- a conversation about some regulations. A second generation wizard was complimenting his friend on his Subservience Duty assignation. A privilege, he bemoaned, that he would not be able to partake of.

It took Draco a fair bit of reconnaissance by looking imperious. People let him go where he liked, and if they did address him it was as Lord Malfoy.

He subtly obtained a guidebook, a public pamphlet designed for distribution and easy consumption. It outlined the Subservience Order- 'what the citizen of a better, brighter wizard Britain should know'.

Second generation, or otherwise established members that had proven themselves in the war- had to work to ensure their place in society would not ruin order. Examinations of their loyalty were mandatory by officiates. Any offense by cheek or challenge would have drastic punishments. Draco swallowed vitriolic laughter, thinking of a Potter that kept his head down- the absurdity.

Mudblood, muggle borns, first generation wizards- were to be bonded to a pureblood family as _subservient_ or else they were to be held indefinitely in Azkaban, or executed for violations of magic theft and redundancy. He continued to stare at the word executed after he put the pamphlet away.

Hermione burned into his mind. She was glowing with purpose, radiating with inborn strength as she chanted the words to summon mythos. He saw her casting spells with glowing white sand, tear streaked face fierce. Her nose in the air, ignorning him when he taunted her in the Hogwarts hallway. Her screams when his Aunt Bella carved into her arm were overlain with images of her- strong and powerful.

Then, he had seen a headline directly after- celebrating 'THE DEFEAT OF POTTER: The last of the blood traitors and the final jewel in the Dark Lord's Crown'.

He had apparated to the town bordering his families Manor.

The gates swept open and he walked up the path.

White peacocks on the grounds still wandered and his shining white house upon the hill-

He veered off to sit by the pond and the jasmine. He sat down on a stone bench and placed his elbows on his knees- he looked at the manor that bore him with mixed emotions of hate and admiration, love and despair.

He turned away from it, looked down into the pond.

The edge of the water lapped just a short distance away, but the reflection was calm.

He whispered- "I never wanted to do this alone. I never -" His voice broke. He sadness turned into anger.

"Bloody goddamn Potter- you said anything you absolute idiot." He clenched his hands into fists on his knees and squeezed his eyes. "Potter-" He spat and nearly yelled out "-you pissant arrogant wanker- you promised them anything and yet here you are dead and I am here doing- _doing_ Merlin only knows what- going to go up against this whole damned world by myself."

The pond wavered. A face with green eyes floated on the water's surface.

Draco's nostrils flared and color drained from his face. He lurched forward on his knees.

"Potter?" He asked. Of what he could make out leaning over the surface, the face in the water looked confused for a moment. It was Potter-but his face faded away with a fish that swam just under the surface of the pond.

Draco fell back and beat his hand down on the grass. "Potter." He pleaded in a whisper.

The fish suddenly churned as if something in the water had unsettled it. It leapt out of the water onto the grass and flopped there.

Draco stared at it, horrified but too shocked to move to save it. He let it struggle, as if it was escaping the water or trying to upright itself.

He got to his feet. It stopped flopping and twitched.

Draco drew his wand, and hesitating only briefly to cast the levitation charm to ease it back into the water.

"Surely you wouldn't think to return it to the water, Draco." As light as he felt, the ice of that smooth voice pierced his chest solidly.

"Father."

"It wants to die."

The fish was prone in his spell, but it still breathed. Draco still did not turn to face his father, but he could feel him come up to his side. A chill started to settle in him.

"I do so hope that your loyalty is not wavering...again, my only son."

For a heartbeat that he couldn't feel, the fish stayed above the water.

Draco lay the fish back into the pond. Still not looking at his Father, he said coolly, "It never wavers Father. Often the light cast on the wall by the flame of my devotion may play shadows, but I assure you, the light is ever burning."

Draco's father put his hand on his shoulder. "Indeed. Come," They began walking up the path. "Your mother and your current dalliance await you."

At this Draco looked at his father, startled. His father's face had aged considerably, but the stretched and anxious wear on his face from when he had last seen him, was smoothed out with victorious living.

"I expect you have the ring to make it official? It is an evening of special significance." Lucius prompted.

His albicant hair was once again well groomed, and pressed into a clean ribbon tied in an eldritch knot. Emerald black robes, the silver snake head cane, his father was King again. Draco firmly shuttered his mind, and his emotion, with the Occlumency instilled by a dutiful Severus Snape.

"I was unable to locate the ring that I wished to offer."

Lucius smirked. "Then you have finally come to your senses. Your mother had told me she was certain that you were trying to avoid the signet and the bond." A small thing with feathers fought for life in him.

His mother.

He cleared his throat and returned to watch their steps up the path to the doors of the house. "Do tell her that she was right. You know how I hate to displease her."

"Certainly. We mustn't impinge on her sense of motherly pride with you." Lucius' voice was like a silk rope. The Manor doors opened for them. Draco stood at attention and Lucius said, "There are things that we must do before we prepare for the celebration tonight."

Draco, hardly trusting himself, only nodded.

 ***8*8***

His Father had sat with him in the office. He was informing him of some money investments, some bribes neatly placed that should be recorded only in _this_ portfolio and then re-transcribed and code labelled in a separate folder that produced a duplicate document excusing the money.

He allowed Draco to review papers but it was a very good thing, Draco thought with no amount of disgruntled unease, that his Father was directive and condescended to remind him which folders were which.

At another too long hesitation where Draco was trying to process what the appreciation values of subservience trades really meant, before they seemingly shifted to other labels. He squinted, furrowed his brow. It was like he was delirious from sleep, drunk while trying to read.

The words were running. The papers were changing. He had to quadruple check before matching and filing things before but now looking at this abhorrent list of names- he couldn't even determine reality.

His Father finally said, "Really, Draco. If you're that preoccupied that you can't even perform the most basic function of finance- we've been going over this for a year now, maybe it really is best you have your mother receive you. I fear that I have either produced a failure of a financier or a failure of a son yet to be a man."

He landed his wanded cane down sharply.

Draco swallowed hard before letting his mind cool. Recalling the glassy mirror surface of a obsidian stone, he controlled his face and relaxed it into neutrality before meeting his father's disproving face. "It's not everyday that a man gives a ring away. I would hope that some occasions still should affect me."

Lucius scoffed and looked to the ceiling as if appealing to a higher power.

Draco closed the portfolio and stood. "I shall go and see if mother will receive me."

Lucius tsked, stood and said, "Yes, do so. Clearly we are to avoid one duty today in favor of another."

Draco held the door open for his father and Lucius stalked out. Draco allowed for the doors to his Father's old office to close on their own as his Father made his exit down the hall. He tried to control his nausea.

 ***8*8***

His mother looked radiant in the evening light. The tea table she was seated at reflected the evening off it's polish. With the white morning glories twisted closed around the sil, it looked picturesque. The window was open to let the jasmine scent waft into her drawing room. Her pale hair was gleaming, almost ghostlike in the light, piled atop her head. His heart stopped momentarily for the vermillion he saw glistening at her middle. She was wearing faint blue and pale green with a blood red sash across her middle that pooled in her lap and dripped down onto the floor.

He let the door click closed behind him.

She turned, aloof and cold but a soft smile reached her eyes.

He had missed her.

"Draco, come. There's still time for tea before dinner."

Draco walked and placed a tender kiss on her cheek. Her eyes were faintly lined but they crinkled with a smile.

"So, I hear that you-"

Then something strange happened. Like two images super-imposed on each other, they held different positions. She had picked up the teapot both times, one at ease and the other overly formal. Two voices, two tones reverberated over each other.

Draco blinked.

The images merged again.

She looked up- then her eyes moved toward the other chair. "Draco?" She said hesitantly.

He shook his head and sat. "Ah, yes. Father has said that I have come to my senses."

Narcissa once again with her motions overlapped said something that he couldn't quite place- so odd and disorienting a sensation. His skin prickled, he felt his blood flit just under his jaw.

His mother narrowed her eyes, just faintly raising a brow as she prepared his tea in duality. Once again repeating something that sounded like 'bond,marriage- only my ring, could you have chosen- of course, love her.'

The cup appeared to be singular as she lightly placed it and the saucer in front of him.

He looked down at it. There was a little milk, swirling just below the surface. Complex chaotic smokey lace, gravitating beautifully but there was no hint of a shredded existence.

He asked the only thing that he could, "Do I love her?"

His mother placed a milky white hand over his, her thumb rubbing his knuckles. Then the hand at once stayed and left.

 ***8*8***

The celebration was a miserable affair. All of their guests were flush with a joyous mood. He found it quite dark.

 ***8*8***

Draco was wishing by the time the third course appeared in front of him that he would be able to replace this empty feeling with something that could give him some bearing. When the silver cover lifted, he instead was given a renewed sense of dread- the fish lay on his plate. He did not want to look at his Father.

 ***8*8***

By the time dessert and the apartif was set out, there seemed to be an expectant lull. The surface calm, but the undercurrent deadly. He had to excuse himself as it seemed no one else was going to.

 **~8~8~8~8~8~8~**

Harry woke without remembering that he had fallen asleep. He stared at the sky, or rather the light of the sky that could only be seen through the mist. He felt his eyes crust, his skin and body sore. Every pain, every heaviness in his body. He didn't want to get up.

The tree was dying, he saw.

The stone broken.

He sat up to look at the box, but instead there was a woman, no age marking her face, and no youth set into her body. She stood at the edge of the stone portal with long brown hair in braids that coiled in the old fashion of her ancient tunic and gown.

He stared at her. He felt nothing and so desired to say nothing. She watched him for many moments. She beckoned him and took a step backwards.

Harry struggled to get to his feet. Once he did, he was breathing heavily, bent in on himself. He then pointed his wand at her.

Her expression was unreadable. She took another steady step backwards.

He held it for as long as he could. Then he said, "They're all gone." His face, stone until this point, started to crack. His face twisted. He fought to straighten it out, his jaw bunching with the effort.

She didn't move.

He said, "They're all gone and I can't even get off this damn island to do what I need to do."

She shook her head. She held out both her arms. Her expression changed to one of askance.

Harry lowered his wand and limped forward. He put his hand on the stone portal. There were runes, and he thought…. All that was missing was the gauzy black curtain. Sirius, ethereal as he drifted through. He passed through the portal and suddenly the mists began to clear.

The woman stepped forward and raised her hand to Harry's forehead. He was, once again, asleep without remembering.

 **~8~8~**

Harry woke in what appeared to be a humble stone dwelling. He felt immeasurably better, but he had dry lips and a sticky tongue. He looked down at himself- from what he could see, he was wearing a spun tunic of linen, and the bed linen was a thin wool blanket. Sunlight spilled onto the bed and in the room. Instinctively he looked for his glasses and his wand and found neither.

An open window, framed with carved wood sat to this right, and in the direction where his feet lay, an old wooden door, similarly carved, was ajar. The the sound of a trilling bird floated outside.

There was no water so far that he could see.

He began to get out of bed. A faint lingering pain where the curses had landed told him he was either well healed or had been here for some time. He looked and saw compresses and bandages fall away. He was barefoot as well.

A bird lit upon the sill, noisily trilling.

Harry paused, torn between suspicion for the bird and a honey warm feeling.

The woman with the long hair and simple clothing came through the door. Harry looked up at her from his seated position on the bed.

She glided in and he tried to stand quickly, but immediately felt blood drain- he lost his balance before she caught him by the wrist. She held him there and moved her other hand up to his forehead.

She didn't say anything but nodded. Harry righted himself.

She stepped away and went to the sil. The bird made some noises and she brushed it away.

Harry started to ask but then had to clear his throat. She looked at him.

"Right, so where am I? And who're you- and I really hope you talk because I have had just about enough of-"

"You are here now. Come, now I will have you see."

Harry scratched his head and gave a heavy sigh, "For some reason, I really don't think I will."

 **~8~8~**

She brought him down through a narrow stairwell into a corridor that had two other stair tunnels leading in different directions.

The corridor opened up to a room with a wide window to the left and there were Harry squinted- furniture shapes. Several desks and chairs, two - what he assumed- looms and some chests. There was a small narrow opening that looked down into a large empty room. He gathered he was in a castle.

He followed her down another stairwell into the large room. There were runes carved on the floors and that was well lit from several window openings. She went to what appeared to be a wash stand near a long table that had a stone surface and several small bowls.

She tapped the side and said, "Place this upon your eyes."

He stepped forward and looked inside the basin.

He pointed "That- looks like mud. I know I am blind- but I can see that that's not an explanation at the very least."

She crossed her arms. "Remain blind if you wish. This will help you see."

Harry dropped his hands by his side. "I can see that you're having a bit of trouble with this 'seeing' bit anyway. I want to know why I am here- and don't tell me that it's because I have got mud on my eyes."

She said, "You're here to remain a legend until you no longer are one, or until you become one again."

Harry closed his eyes, then rubbed them with his fingers.

"Yes, like that. Do it quickly please, I have other things to show you and it would be better if you could see." She gestured to the puddle of mud again.

Harry tried not to be be rude, but he reasoned that if he made his way over to the mud she may be more willing to answer a question. " Erm- and who exactly are you?"

"An Acolyte of Morgana."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. For all he knew, that could have been very informative. He looked down at the bowl, he put his hand inside the cool wet muck. This is worse than mud, he thought- but when had he ever practiced caution when cryptic, elaborately dressed stranger told him what to do?

Harry smeared the mud on his eyes.

It was gritty, cool and quite wet.

"More." She said, nudging his hands back down to the bowl. His eyes started to water and burn.

He sucked in a breath and groaned. "It's burning."

"Yes, quickly- more."

He put more on but then the pain began to intensify. He tried wiping it off- she pried his hands away and said, "No, it must dry."

"This is the exact opposite of seeing anything- raghh!"

"I promise you, this will be over soon." He heard water being poured, tried to resist the urge to rub away the mud with the heels of his hand. She took his hand and tugged him. He followed her, upsettingly blind, outside.

Grass was lightly damp under his feet and they walked until he heard the burble of a water creek.

She made him kneel down in the soft damp earth and guided his hands to a cold pool of water. "Now- clean."

He splashed water on his face and rubbed away. He heard something faint, like someone calling his name very far away.

'Potter- you absolute…Potter'- it sounded like Malfoy. He rushed to wipe his eyes clear. He saw Draco in the reflection of the pool finishing a spew of curses in his name.

He leaned as close as he could the pools surface. Draco Malfoy called out- muffled by the water.

Harry reached forward, "Malfoy? Draco!" The image faded as soon as the icy water enveloped his hand and he hit silt.

Panic seized him he tried to stick his head in the water but the woman grabbed him by the shirt.

"No," She said. "It's a scrying pool."

Harry looked up at her- "What about Hermione- Hermione!" He looked down at the pool.

He saw a girl, curls as voluminous as Hermione's hair was large, but auburn rather than rich brown. She was a child. Green eyes, same as his. His heart was in his throat and he grew confused as he peered at her. Her expression was Hermione's and she looked to be very upset on the Hogwarts Express.

"Hermione?"

For a fleeting second, her eyes flicked to his, determination and purpose setting her features. He knew-then, things were stretched so far apart he couldn't imagine how they would be put back together.

He should have let Malfoy negotiate.

 ***8*8*8*8*8*8***

 **AN:** Enjoy the double update.


	8. 1: I : 7 : Gates

**Act I: Childhood**

 _:..._ _And you cannot help men permanently by doing for them what they can and should do for themselves_ : William John Henry Boetcker

In which the Hierophant is played.

 _Chapter 7: Gates_

* * *

The mood was considerably lighter a few days after the Diagon Alley incident. Hermione felt as if the world was finally in a rhythm that she could grasp, tracing the movement along the wheel powering her existence.

They spent more time with their school friends, Emily and Regina. After informing them that they had gotten into a private school and were going there on scholarship, Emily, a small black haired girl with pale skin looked sad but said, "That sounds very nice."

Regina, a tall girl with curly cue light brown hair tied back with a bright orange headband skin gasped, then delight spread across her deep brown features. "Lily! 'Mione! That's radical! _So_ groovy."

They talked about other students, what they wanted to do when they grew up and promised they would still be friends. If Severus happened upon them in the park, Emily regarded him quietly and Regina would attempt to convince him that they were okay to join. Severus would just disappear into the grove of trees that Lily, Hermione, and he had claimed as theirs. Regina and Emily, for _some reason,_ were never able to get through the trees.

Though Petunia seemed on the fence for a week, she suddenly spent all her time away from the girls. Their parents didn't mind as they wanted to spend time with the twins before they were whisked off to what they perceived as essentially a boarding school, something the Evans had sworn never to do. Petunia in her tween years was becoming shrill about more than just her little sisters.

Severus would come over and he would read the textbooks with Lily. Hermione used taking notes as an excuse to plan in her journal. It was one such evening, very near when they would finally leave for Hogwarts, that her twin and Severus tried a spell.

Severus and Lily would try and sort through things on their own, or brainstorm questions for spells. Severus had Bathsheba Babbling's Ancient Runes book propped up on his thighs, sitting on the floor hunched over and leaning against Lily's bed one evening.

Their door was open at their Da's embarrassingly trepidatious insistence, and the spare breeze from all the windows that their Mummy had opened drifted through comfortably.

The breeze ruffled Severus's hair across his face and he reached to scratch his nose with an irritable sound once more. Lily flicked her eyes at him from her bed.

She said loftily, "Maybe if you cut your _silly_ hair, it wouldn't bother you so much." She was paging through the charms book, which earlier Severus had called silly.

Severus rolled his eyes and tsked. "I'm not the one reading from the _silly_ Charms book, remember?"

Lily said, "It's not silly! It's quite useful. Look here, Accio is a very useful spell. I can think of all sorts of reasons why you may need a practical and useful spell such a _s Accio._ "

Hermione secretly agreed with Snape- foolish wand waving, she smirked to herself as she recalled the very first day she met the man, and turned the page of her Arithmancy book.

Severus said, "It's a waste of magic."

Lily huffed and sat up right, "It's a better use of time."

Hermione glanced up, thinking lazily about the relationship time and magic had between one another, but was not particularly interested in getting involved.

Lily had more sisterly ideas however, and sought back-up from her twin. "Isn't it Hermione? You're always thinking about practical and efficient things, isn't Accio just gobs useful?"

Hermione blinked. Severus turned to her.

Lily placed her arms akimbo, sitting down cross legged and cross.

Her mind was working quite fast, and she said the first thing that popped into her head, "The sensible thing would be to try- you won't know until you try it, right?"

Lily said, "You're so right 'Mione."

Severus turned, and glared at Lily, "What are you doing?"

"I lost the Hogwarts letter a while ago and now I am going to find it with _ease-_ instead of wasting time."

"Oh you are, are you?"

"Yes, I am."

"Thought you were worried you'd go to Azkaban if you did magic." Severus said, a sly look in his eye.

Lily crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, "That was _before_ I asked Professor Lugaid about Azkaban and magic with my owl." Lily sassed, the undertone of 'duhh' evident in her voice. "He said that it would be perfectly alright if I practised magic-"

Hermione could not help but compare that she had not asked permission when she was first practicing and also raise her eyebrow- because that is not what the letter had said.

"I knew that, no need to recite." Severus said viperiously, and looked as if he was covering up feeling hurt with venom. Severus was generally correct about everything regarding spells, his thirst and desire to learn undiminished by his environment.

Hermione had a split second to gander at the reason before Lily snatched her wand from her bedside table. She held it out, one hand on the description and pronunciation of the spell and the other ready to make the motion with her hand. Crookshanks, hiding somewhere about the room suddenly pounced out of the room and waddled down the hall to find an appropriate spot to glare at.

Hermione had a second to think about what was going to happen before Lily said, " _Accio Hogwarts letter_!" And Hermione's carefully placed letter in her drawer forced its way out by pushing the drawer, ripping a little as it zoomed towards her twin.

Lily's letter, which she had sworn she left on the table in the living room, zoomed from down the hallway of Petunias cracked open door, banging it open.

Severus watched with some amount of smirking satisfaction when the letter hit a gobsmacked Lily in the face. "Hey!"

Severus said, "That came from-"

Lily finished, "-Petunias room."

Hermione's stomach sank. This was not good. Lily looked to Hermione. In that moment she looked as tempestuous as Ginny did when she was about to Bat Bogey hex someone in vengeance.

She jumped up from her bed, "She knew I was looking for this!"

Severus put his book down, rose from his position, and muttered, still leagues below his silky voice that he had as an older man, "If she had that, I wonder what else she had."

Lily said, "Petunia doesn't steal-"

Severus intoned, "Maybe before. I wouldn't put it past her. You said that she has been acting - bogue lately. C'mon."

Hermione opened her mouth to tell them that they shouldn't, but shut it when Lily, all too willingly, got up and followed Severus.

They stood just out of the doorway line and she could see both of their backs at the door. Severus, at Lily's nervousness about trespassing said, his hand held up as a promise "I won't go in, swear, I just want to look."

Lily said dismally, her expression concerned, "She didn't take Fruffykins with her." The name of the puffskein, probably stuffed in with her other stuffed animals on the bed. Severus said sharp, "If she leaves it alone… wait- hang about- what is that? How-..."

Severus's voice was incredulous and despite Lily's worrisome hands clutching the back of his shift, (clean from Mrs. Evans 'accidental' spill and quick pop in the wash,) he started forward. Lily said, voice rising as well, "What? What is it?"

Severus said, "I can't believe that a muggle could contact Hogwarts!"

Lily gasped, "What!"

Hermione watched as Lily went past Severus into Petunias room on her desk, taking the letter from under her journal.

Hermione watched, her stomach twisting up inside as Severus and Lily read the letter silently. Severus scoffed, "She asked the Headmaster of Hogwarts if he made a mistake? How pathetic."

Lily whispered something and looked up at Hermione across the hall. Hermione was unmoving sitting on the very far right side of her bed, curled up, tense. Lily looked to her twin searching for some sense of direction.

Hermione broke eye contact and looked away from her twin. There wasn't anything she could think of to do. She knew it would not end well.

* * *

It was no more or less busy than any other day for most of the people rushing and waiting at the crossroads, but the wind carried the smell of a wet fall day, just crystallizing out of summer, and the children felt electric. The Lupins met the Evans at King's Cross Station, but it was an unlikely coincidence that two of the Snape family wavered in front of the Platform 9 ¾.

After greeting each other, Hermione was too pleased in seeing Remus once more to listen to the exchange between parents. She greeted him excitedly, she was about to embrace him but thankfully Lily joined to greet him brightly and she saved the both of them the embarrassment. They began to move forward in a large group to the Snape pair as Lily almost instinctively trailed over to Severus.

"Oh, Hope, thank you so much for agreeing to meet us here. We wrote to Professor Lugaid using Lily's darling little owl and he said it was perfectly fine, that he was happy that we had made a friend so quickly." Penelope chatted.

Hope tweeted, "Well, I'm just pleased that Lyall was just pleased as punch to be guide today, so that makes the two of us!"

The luggage bound for Hogwarts was on trolleys they got from the station, Lily's owl hidden under what appeared to be a pastry doily, Crookshanks in Hermione's book bag, with light reading and pastries and homemade snacks inside new tupperware containers Mummy had bought, they looked quite like they were bursting at the seams. Crookshanks poked his head up out of the bag to look out at the station. Hermione held onto her Mummy's left hand and Lily held onto the right, while Da pushed the cart. Remus was pushing his own cart with ease and was talking animatedly with Lily about the summer reading they had done.

Conspicuously unhappy was Petunia, who had elected to stay with a friend for the delivery of the twins to Hogwarts.

Petunia was sour because their Da and Mummy made her come home from staying at her new friends house as they felt it necessary for her to say goodbye to her sisters. This, however, appeared to have the opposite effect of familial bonding, and made Petunia feel twice as distant and at least three times as petulant as an adolescent could be.

They approached Severus and his mother. Their friend stood very close to his mother, but Mother and Son did not touch. Severus was glaring like a little dark stormcloud about to viciously rain on the little approaching parade.

Mr. Evans was the first to greet the pair with a very forceful, "Hallo! You must be Mrs. Snape. I'm Jac Evans, and this is my wife, Penelope Evans. Severus has been wonderful." He held out his hand and Severus mother appeared to thin her lips in distaste, and her cheek twitched in an emotion not unlike nervousness.

Mrs. Snape weakly proffered her sallow, bony hand out in front of her as if she thought better of it immediately but could not retract it. Jac Evans grasped it gently and shook it briefly. Penelope looked like she had affixed a very bright and very fake smile upon her face, and said with a straining voice "So good to meet you Mrs. Snape, great to see you out. I'm- so sure you're sad to see Severus go."

Mr. Evans continued, "We sure are, if you need anything, Mrs. Snape. _Please_ , let us know."

Mrs. Snape looked at the two over eager muggle parents and her eyes flicked towards the Lupins. She raised her eyebrow and addressed the group. "Pleasure, I'm sure. Severus insisted that he wait for your daughters to go through the Platform."

Mr. and Mrs. Lupin looked a bit awkward as they edged towards to the platform, and his father placed a hand on Remus's shoulder. "Perhaps, son, you should go first."

Remus smiled nervously, Hermione could practically see his adam's apple bob around a beating pulse. The Lupins were probably more vested in their sons progression into Hogwarts than in some strange sallow woman and her boy, but Hermione wondered if they knew each other.

Prince was a pure-blooded family, they had to know _of_ her, at least.

She watched the Lupins near determinedly disincluded themselves from the conversation. Hermione held onto her mother's hand, and was near enough that her Mummy's dancing flickering muscles betrayed her emotional lopsidedness.

Hermione understood, because she wanted to shake the woman and demand how she could live in the way that she did, by allowing for the abuse to be inflicted on her son, much less herself.

Hermione tugged on her auburn curls, her free hand itching to pull her wand out of the little belt she had affixed it to for comfort. It wasn't _rational_.

For someone to put their child through such things, the affront to reasonable thought made more infuriating because she didn't know what she could do but make things worse. She turned away from Severus's face, from his mother, guiltily and she watched Remus gather his courage and speed walk through the wall.

Lily squeaked in surprise and delight and immediately said, "Oh Mummy, let's go!"

Mr. and Mrs. Evans looked confused, and Penelope said,"Where?"

Severus said impatiently, "Muggles can't see. You'll have to take them through." His Mother twitched a lip and said, "Severus- I am sure they have no interest in doing so."

Mr. Evans, drew himself up, his lumpy fisherman knit a little frayed, but it became a measure of sturdiness in the way he he held himself. "There is no part of my daughter's life that I wish to not be a part of." His five o'clock shadow left over from yesterday, made the furrows his tightened mouth made all the more pronounced with pain. His green eyes cast down to where Severus had hunched inward, looking down at his feet, his lank bangs falling into his face.

Mrs. Snape moved her head around and her eyes didn't quite fix upon Mr. Evans, but rather fluttered unaffixed to any part of her view that was knitted in tight focus to Mr. Evans.

"If I may have you help escort us to where… er the platform is?"

The Lupins were holding hands. Mrs. Lupin said, "Oh Penelope- I'll see you on the other side, just have Hermione or Lily walk through with each of you."

They left and Hermione saw them meld through stone as did Lily. But their parents both blinked and turned to one another as if asking if they had missed something.

Hermione separated from her Mummy and grabbed onto her Da's hand. He smiled down at her, and she couldn't help but feel uplifted, warm and protected. She cast a look back at Lily who looked giddily terrified. Petunia looked snide and hesitant, and Lily stubbornly grabbed Petunias hand and looked expectantly to Severus.

Mrs. Snape said, her voice wavering faintly, "Just expect to move forward, make the motions to do so, and you'll make it."

* * *

Hermione broke through the wall with her Da and kept them moving, despite his initial reaction of stock still amazement, from previous experiences with her past muggle parents. The first thing Hermione Evans noticed was that the train station of the Wizarding platform seemed to be much more packed than she had ever seen it as Hermione Granger.

Remus was having his hair pushed back and patted by his mother, his Father looking at him with a kind smile. Hermione bit her lip, his Father looked so much like Professor Lupin had, in his expression, she had to push down the unbidden bile that accompanied her memories of when Remus Lupin was last at Hogwarts.

The Evanses and Lupins stood around and spoke to each other for quite sometime, and Hermione stayed to listen to their conversation to see if she could learn anything about the goings on of the world, and also because she felt more comfortable around adults.

Lily and Petunia were off to one side, and they looked like they were having an emotional conversation. Interrupted of course by the parents deciding it was time for them to get onto the train and say goodbye.

She was squeezed, kissed, picked up, spun around by her parents. Lily was treated to the same. Severus had a much quieter goodbye with his mother who he embraced and as she patted on the back.

Lily and Hermione had gotten onto the train with the help of Mr. Lupin. He had made the trunks float, for which Hermione was quite grateful for, as her body would have struggled with the weight- as it was meant to be, and she would have been mildly frustrated.

Their parents were with Mr. Lupin, who was probably informed of the incident that had occurred in Diagon Alley via his wife's and Mrs. Evans' telephone conversation. They were going to wait until the train took off, but Mrs. Snape, after being relinquished by her son, was on her way to skulk off until she was called out after by Mr. Evans.

Remus clambered on the train first. Lily stoutly followed him, grabbing Hermione. The twins told Remus to look for a car one way and they'd go another. It wasn't hard to convince the shy boy to do so since they were already veritably separated by a group of fourth years pushing their way through. He was swallowed up by the bustle of students.

The train whistled the minute all aboard warning. The train was packed with students elbowing each other, tossing streamers with flickering sparks, frogs, cats, owls all in cacophonous complaint, there was banging sounds and shouts from trinkets and trolleys. The luggage that was toting itself around needed to be placed in a cubby hole that had been built on the in between connecting cars.

They didn't get a chance to wave out the window to their parents, but a letter as soon as they got to Hogwarts would have to suffice. Missed chances due to poor planning, but happenstance was another matter entirely Hermione thought.

They hussled along, seeing cars already packed with people, some cars quite rambunctious, others older, more foreboding. Some were occupied with too many students, and still others too full with _exclusivity_. Lily opened a car door, and squealed as soon as she realized what was happening. At the high pitched noise, the boy that was snogging the girl senseless ripped his face upwards, the girl twisted away and smoothed down her robes.

Hermione had to slam the door shut. She hoped they were Seventh years, she thought despairingly. Lily whispered "Oh my,"

Hermione turned to her twin and said- "Er, maybe you go back that way and see if you can't find Remus."

Hermione gave up looking for a spare car quite shortly, and dodged back through the students who were finally securing their own cars to Lily, whom she spotted brush past Severus as if he wasn't there.

Severus had the familiar red blotches staining his skin. Hermione said, "Well, I think we should head to the back of the train and see if Remus found a car for us."

Severus said, voice wavering but eager, "I'll find you. I want to change into my school robes now." He tucked them out from under his jacket. "The bathroom is empty anyway." He proffered as an excuse, but he looked eager.

Nearing closer to the car door that Remus had been in during her third year, Hermione couldn't help but recall that this was the first place that she had met Remus.

Lily opened a the car door and found Remus and Sirius, with a black haired boy that was near lounging with his hand in his chin, staring out of the window that was already speeding by.

He seemed unconnected with the other boys in the car. Hermione knew, recognizing the profile, seeing the same long features, that it wasn't the case. Her heart beat faster. She had been waiting for this moment. Where she would have to look at the future in the present, and hold the weight of her past in.

Sirius perked up from his lounging spot when the girls entered but Lily was despondent and Hermione only spared him a passing glance as a hello.

Lily sat down and leaned her head against the side of the car. Remus sat and looked at her curiously with a small amount of concern on his features.

Lily looked out the window racing by, and looked like she was about to cry. "She hates us Hermione."

She hunched over and curled up and started to cry. Remus placed his hands in his lap and looked over at Hermione, and drew inward. Sirius shifted in his seat, and cocked his head upward out the window. James Potter continued being uninterested in Lily and Hermione.

Hermione blinked. Lily glared at him and wiped her eyes, and looked out the window stubbornly. Crookshanks decided he had had enough of being in the bag and hopped out, Sirius brightened and tapped his knees.

Crookshanks, twitched his tail and pretended to walk away and hopped next to Remus, dallying there and letting the blond haired, shy boy scratch behind his ears.

Casually, Sirius said, "Cats… fickle."

Remus gently corrected, "He's not a cat, he's a Kneattin, remember?"

Hermione wondered if James knew Sirius from before, or if James was still deciding what he thought about Sirius. Before much else could happen, as Sirius and Remus were at a loss of what to say to each other, the door opened.

Severus saw her first, but didn't even bother to spare a glance at the others in the compartment after he looked at Lily.

She scooched over, turning up her shoulders. In these small ways she was reminded of the undercurrent of possessiveness Severus had of Lily.

Severus sat next to Lily. Her voice, rubbing out through a vice, "I don't want to talk to you."

Severus, Hermione watched, lowered his breathing, didn't move, showed no facial expression when he asked carefully, "Why not?"

"'Tuney hates me, she hates us. We saw that letter, and now she's called me and Hermione freaks."

Sirius wheezed. Remus looked up, looking at Lily unabashedly, his face vulnerable with concern.

Hermione was just watching her sister though, who was looking at Severus with pink around her eyes making them impossibly bright green.

Severus looked relieved. As if this had nothing to do with him at all, "So what?"

Lily turned her mouth up in disgust, and turned away from him, "So, she's my sister!"

"She's only a-." Severus stopped. Hermione heard. Severus wasn't to be stopped though, attempting to get Lily to perk up, "But we're going! This is it! We're off to Hogwarts!"

Lily, turned back to him and looked at Hermione and gave a small half smile, as if she was reminded of something.

"You'd better be in Slytherin." Severus stated.

"Slytherin?" James turned to look directly at Severus. Cocking his eyebrows upward and tilting his head, Hermione didn't respond, she was swallowing heavily.

James had brown eyes. She told herself, James wasn't Harry, but he was looking at her with Harry's face like she was beneath him.

Hermione swallowed. Seeing Harry's face was off putting, but the expression on it was even more so.

On Harry's first day, he was small, much in the way James was lithe. Harry though, had more in common with Snape's appearance then this handsomely groomed, athletic boy who had an air about him and sun in his skin.

"Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" He turned to Sirius.

"My whole family have been in Slytherin," Sirius said, without a smile, watching James' face carefully.

"Blimey and I thought you seemed alright!" said James, and tilted his chin up. There was a tested moment. Hermione felt something inch in between her shoulder blades, and realized it was heightened awareness, a jolt she usually hadn't felt unless something was amiss.

A split second later she saw that Sirius' grin was a little feral when he said, "Maybe I'll break the tradition." Break was said like a snap.

James grinned.

Sirius asked, challenge in his tone, "Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?" Hermione was sure that Sirius would have been informed of the sorting process. Likely told the hat decided, and following such ingrained pureblood logic, was predestined.

James lifted an invisible sword and as if in a play, projected with all seriousness of a professional, "'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!'," then finished with the same overture of challenge, "Like my Dad."

Hermione was taken aback at the compunction of James. He said Dad like a reminder.

Severus gave a small noise to match his dismissive expression. James whipped back his gaze and said, "Got a problem with that?" As if he would relish the chance to prove that there wasn't.

"No." The sneer pulling Severus' lip up said otherwise, and he continued with a glint in his narrowing eye, "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy-"

"Where're you hoping to go seeing as you're neither?" Sirius said, not moving up from his relaxed lounging position. He looked at Severus like that day in the pet shop, and Hermione knew he had remembered the slight.

James' laughter scraped out in waves as he threw himself backwards in laughter. Lily looked affronted and turned her nose up at both James and Sirius.

Sirius quirked his eyebrow up as if everything was going better than expected with James laughing so heartily.

Remus bit his lip, as if he found it clever but felt as if he shouldn't laugh. Crookshanks, startled by James' roaring, frizzed up and dug his claws into Remus who released the air he was holding with a small shout. Lily got up with a little stamp to her foot and whipped her long hair back and around, holding her head high she commanded, "Come on, Severus, Hermione, let's find another compartment."

"Ohhhhh!" James said, but Hermione could see his eyes light up as Lily turned back towards him when he imitated her lofty voice.

Sirius did the same, involved in the laughter of James. It looked as if he was infected by it. Remus was biting his lip guiltily and watched as Severus and Lily exited the car.

Hermione heeded her twin, of course she would. She had just enough for one day with watching Harry's face be an utter prat, and she picked up her bag.

James stuck out his leg when Severus walked by, tripping him up slightly. He said- still in the mock Lily tone- "Bye, Snivellus."

Hermione's auburn curls were beginning to show signs of clouding, her stormy expression fixed solely upon James. She shouldered her large book bag and it thumped against her back in time with her twin and Severus exiting the compartment with a thud.

He wasn't Harry, it was just painful to watch Harry's face be used like this, and she would never mistake James for her valiant friend.

She moved forward to Crookshanks where he was frizzing up in agitation next to Remus.

The kitten kneazle leapt up in her arms.

Remus looked at her guiltily and said, "She's- can't know, right? She doesn't understand… about wanting to be in Slytherin?"

Sirius looked at Hermione with a guarded glance in his silver eyes, "Did you- do you want to be in Slytherin?" He pushed his bangs away from his eyebrows.

Hermione, irate as she pulled Crookshanks into the the curve of her neck glared at all three of them and said, "No matter if I was sorted into Slytherin or not, I should very well hope that you would judge me on my character rather than what I am categorically judged as-" making sure to make eye contact with each of the boys in the car.

She swirled around and slammed the compartment door open. "-That goes for Gryffindors as well, because brave doesn't exclude you from being vile, toe rag bullies." She stepped out and shut it behind her as controlled as she could.

She took a deep breath to calm down. Then, she followed Lily and Severus who were looking in different compartments, knocking on some passing others. She was disappointed, and realism was warring against her idealistic nature. All the same, a small seed of dread was placed in her upper abdomen. She told herself that it wasn't unexpected, and she knew very well how children were like.

She was the object of such unthinking cruelty as a child. There were things that one simply could not enforce or inflict. Severus and Lily had finally found a spot in a compartment. Briefly, both of them checked to see if Hermione had followed before speaking to whomever occupied the compartment. Hermione followed them inside and smiled a little disingenuinely at the three who occupied the compartment.

A boy familiar to Hermione, exceedingly hyper despite being seated with his hands under his legs, smiled back a little nervously and said, "Hiya."

A girl with dark skin and sloe eyes, looked curiously at the new people and made room. She moved along the deep velvety cushions of the compartment, closer to a boy with watery blue eyes. Severus looked to each of them as if assessing a threat, then flicked his attention back to Lily.

Crookshanks got out of her book bag once more and explored the area by cautiously sniffing the seats and looking about. Hermione wasn't particularly in the best mood to start introducing herself to more people, but she knew the importance of first impressions.

Before Lily and Severus could resume talk about houses, Hermione drew herself up and said, "Hello, I'm Hermione Evans, and this is my twin Lily and this is Severus Snape."

The girl said, "I'm Adashakini Ramakrishnan, I'd be pleased if you would call me Ada." The boy who was sitting on his hands said, "I'm uh, Frank..." Hermione recognized him as the boy being towed about by Augusta Longbottom and saw something of Neville in his hesitation.

"Why are you sitting on your hands Frank?" Lily asked quite abruptly. She had cut off the watery eyed boy with sharp features and a soft face who had opened his mouth to introduce himself.

Frank blinked and opened his mouth asif going to say something, but then smiled nervously "Ahhhh-" and then popped his hands out from under his legs and laughed.

Severus looked at him as if Frank were disturbing him, but Hermione had yet to snap back fully into her eleven year old persona.

Bile thudded around in her chest as she tried to breath through a rising anger towards the _'little lump of a boy'_ on the cushion.

He looked up at her through his lashes, giving a tentative smile and said in almost a whisper. "I'm Pettigrew-Peter, Pettigrew."

Hermione got up, and said "Excuse me." and left.

The door rattled a little when she closed it.

In a small hallway near the back of the train, she pressed her head against the pane of glass and watched as Scotland rolled by in waves of green. A light rain smattered against the windows.

Through the lights reflection in the window, over the backdrop of the ancient forest, she felt the train pass a rib as the colors bled darker.

She felt her stomach lurch as in between the chugging of the train there was something that felt like a whisper. She couldn't tell if it was the steam or the wet air.

The panes of glass held a flash of Harry's face, and she stumbled back and whirled behind her, seeing no one, she grabbed out for one desperate moment thinking he was in his invisibility cloak. Feeling nothing, she turned back to the window.

She felt her throat seizing. Tears were threatening to form at the corner of her eyes. She pressed her head against the glass of the window and breathed. She stood there for a long time, letting her emotions ice over, chilling into purpose and control. It was easier to maintain her control.

She gazed out onto the pine trees, unseeing and stayed there unbroken until she felt someone approach too close. Startled, she whipped around to face a Hufflepuff Prefect. He looked a little unfortunate, with bland hair and splotchy skin, but smiled kindly and said, "First day jitters, huh?"

Hermione, put her hand to her forehead, probably a read mark still pasted there. She looked down, "I suppose."

"Come on then, I have some people you should meet. I am Edan Thatcher."

"I am Hermione… Evans. It's nice to meet you."

* * *

"Is there still a seat open here?" Edan announced cheerfully as he slid the door open.

A fourth year girl that was whipcord thin, tall, with long brown plaits immediately moved over and smiled, "Absolutely! My names Abigail- what's yours?" The crest of Hufflepuff adorned most of the chests of the students seated inside the car.

The two exceptions seemed to be the other first years. Hermione dutifully introduced herself and chatted with her peers and the Hufflepuff upperclass students who were busy quelling fears and being friendly with two other first year students who seemed quite content talking with them.

The trolley lady came by and asked if anyone wanted anything from the carts. Hermione was the first to decline, and one of the other first year girls, Maisy Sumers who had a soft dandelion look about her, said, "No? Really? I'm so eager to try the sweets here!"

"Careful of the chocolate frogs though, they may get away from you!" A Hufflepuff boy, Miles Jones smiled good-naturedly at the girl, his cheeks pink from natural coloring and smiling a good deal.

"My Mum made snacks and pastries for my sister and I. I better go and eat them with her."

For most of the train ride she wandered in various places in between the cars. Only ever as a prefect had she spent this long outside of the comfortable seating areas.

She met quite a few other students, bumping into them and introducing herself. She never intended for her wandering to take so long however, for by the time she returned to the compartment that her sister resided in with Severus- Remus had joined and been seated next to Peter.

Lily practically leapt up when she saw her sister, but was unpracticed in wearing robes and unceremoniously sat right back down due to lost balance by standing on the hem. "Hermione Rose, where have you been?"

Severus said, "I told you she would come back."

Remus looked up and scratched his nose abashedly. Hermione gave him a questioning look but Lily said, "He's here because he wanted to say sorry that those other two were being prats."

Hermione said, "I suppose I am sorry for the pumpkin pasties not being delicious."

There were some titters from Ada, Frank and Peter.

Remus pinked a little and said, "Well, I know, I still didn't do anything for it. I should head back then." Remus got up, and Crookshanks batted at his blonde curl from the top of the luggage over head.

Peter got up as well, "Wait, c-can I come with you?"

Remus smiled and said, "Yeah, that'd be alright."

Peter said, "Groovy." And left.

Hermione ate snacks and changed into her robes. Then waited for the train to hail it's arrival to the station. Frank had been commandeered by an old friend who called out while passing the open door, "Oi, Frank, nice to finally see you out of your mothers skirts- come on down to car 32, we're playing a wicked game of snaps."

Frank leapt up and said, "Oh, Lawrence- ye-, see you later, maybe at our House table!"

Hermione snorted- not unkindly but still exasperated. Lily seemed to be excited again, and Hermione managed some pleasure and told Lily she met loads of new people and there were quite a few muggleborns.

Delighted that her sister and herself were not going to be the only ones, Lily was brightening even more. Ada was interested in all the spells that Evans'es and Snape alike had learned and practiced, so the car was not short of conversation. Hermione began to like Adashakini and had her spell out her name so she could commit it to memory.

The prefects came by to check to ensure that robes were on, and that familiars and luggage were left appropriately on the train. Lily cooed over Crookshanks and asked if he'd like to hide in her robes anyway.

The train slowed, and the inertia seemed to transfer to her excitement once more. Finally, at long last, the train halted promptly at the Hogwarts station. She would be able to use her wand, make progress and her goals seemed to be closer.

Amid the cluster and press of children, hungry and elated to finally be at school, whether for the love of lessons or a fantastic feast, she allowed herself to be jostled.

Hermione forced the thought of seeing Harry from her mind. It would do no good if she were to start hallucinating, but it was good to have a reminder of her position.

Stepping out of the train she heard the familiar bellow of Hagrid—calling out "Firs' years- Firs' years over here!"

A wash of joy came over her and she grabbed Lily's hand unthinkingly. She nearly ran right up to the big-hearted man. Staring up and grinning, she drank in the sight of Hagrid. He seemed startled by her eagerness, but beamed back at her. His huge bushy beard was more black than the dimmed grey she remembered it, but she basked in his presence for a few moments.

Lily made a small meeping sound and held onto her sisters hand tightly. Severus, panting a little came up next to them.

"Alrigh'- don' worry, I won' leave without a student!"

Hermione rang out "My name is Hermione –" She hesitated for a second, "and this is my sister Lily Evans."

Severus gaping up at Hagrid seemed at a loss. "That's Severus Snape."

"Well it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance'es. I'm Hagrid- the Groundskeeper here at Hogwarts-" He noted that the group of first years packed in rather quickly and he raised his voice to a moderate boom "-and I'll be bringing you through to Hogwarts across the Lake."

The walk down to the lake shores was beautiful in the twilight, and she kept close to Hagrid, asking him if groundskeeper involved any care of magical creatures. He seemed pleased by her question, but genuinely full of regret when answering that he hadn't had any creatures other than the owls as his official duty for some time.

Hagrid seemed surprised when Hermione requested to sit with him in the boat, but he said that there'd be only the two that could fit in with him and gently herded her into a boat with her sister and Severus whom was staunchly by Lily's side.

She warily watched as a still guilty looking Remus clambered into their boat, followed by Potter and Black. Pettigrew looked nervous as he lingered at the edge of the boat, but was sheparded to another boat with Longbottom and a clump of other students she didn't know.

Just as the sun set, all the boats as one pushed off from the lakeside. There was something similar to the sensation of the train moving through the outer edges of the forbidden forest. The water lapped at the edges of their boats like heavy silk and she gazed up at the castle silhouetted black against lavender and deep blue. She rested her arms against the prow, her body turned away from the entire boat.

Melancholy seized her just as Potter said, "Blimey that man was giant. You reckon he _is_ actually a giant?"

Remus, offered, "No, giants are much larger." He said it with a note of unease.

Black said, "In stories they're larger."

Severus sniped, "I am sure he means actually. Not everyone lives in a fairy tale."

She could feel the mutinous shift in mood but refused to tear her gaze away from her home _._

She felt emotions strum in her palms.

Suddenly, images of Hogwarts: Hogwarts burning, then snow covered. Harry and Ron laughing, Sirius laying still as Dementors swarmed, Sirius thanking her and complimenting her on her brightness on a Hippogriff, Severus hissing over her perfect potion as Draco looked on with an expression of not quite triumph. The forest with Grawp, the best nook in the library, the kitchen with House Elves. Dumbledore steepling his fingers. Ron choosing to move his chess piece to be sacrificed, complaining about Crookshanks, holding her while they watched Harry fly around a Dragon. Harry yelling at Umbridge, Harry teaching the DA. Draco's face when she punched him, looking just as shocked as she came down the stairs for the Ball.

Her memories flicked and seemed to peel and bloom too quickly, rotten and fresh all at once. She was coming home.

In the background she faintly registered Lily who chimed in with "Remus knows a lot about Magical creatures but I am not sure-"

Potter overstepped and said "Half-Giant then-

Black reeled, "How-"

Potter almost laughed, "His blood has got to be at least half."

Hermione levelled, near hoarse "Shut. It."

She missed Severus' twitch and Lily's imperceptible shift.

Hermione without turning back raised her arm forward. "Look."

The boat remained silent as they approached the castle. The castle was as enchanting as it was heartbreaking. Hermione felt her eyes blur and looked down into the Lake. A tear dropped into the water. A shimmer too light to be from the moons twi-lit glow expanded in a ripple before dispersing.

Hermione felt something tearing.

* * *

Lily stood next to her as Hermione tried to focus on not feeling everything so acutely. She was exhausted, anxious. She hadn't felt this potently since she first crawled into the tub as, once again, a girl of eleven years.

She was sure something had happened on the Lake. To think of it- what purpose does the lake entrance for the first years serve? She stared blankly at the other end of the wall while the fervent whispers of what was coming next crescendoed into the vaulted ceiling.

Remus was still nearby, shyly standing separately but close enough. Black lingering like an attaché to Potter, who seemed eager to stand at the top of the steps. The knob of first years were pressed up against one another excitedly talking.

Lily and Severus stood together closely- Lily exclaimed in a strained hush, "A ghost battle? To sort us into Houses?"

Severus shook his head, "That's just not-" A ghost popped out of the wall. Severus and Lily nearly jumped out of their skin and skidded backwards. Lily grabbed Hermione's arm as Sirius put his foot forward.

The Hufflepuff ghost started off with a jovial "Boo-oohooohoo!" descending into hoots of laughter.

Nearly Headless Nick floated through shortly after and cried, "Any of the brave still left on the front lines, my friendly friar?"

McGonagall appeared suddenly at the top of the stairs, looking for all intents and purposes about to shake her finger at the ghosts.

"Attention- _attention,_ students- the start of term banquet will begin in just a moment. Before you take your seats in the Great Hall,-" she gestured behind her to the doors, "you will be sorted into your houses."

One boy piped up "A House- what's a house?"

McGonagall cocked her head and the some of the other students snickered- she glared over the group. If Hermione was thinking clearly, she would have noted who had said that for future reference but she wasn't. She was breaking out in a cold sweat and having roiling emotions and a pang was beginning in her stomach.

McGonagall folded her hands and seemed to collect herself before explaining. "Your house is your kin. You will have classes, sleep and spend your free time in your common room with them. For those of you who are unaware-" she said pointedly neutral, "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points."

She raised a single eyebrow. Many of the students around them shuffled nervously.

"At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in front of the rest of the school." She pointed to Sirius' uniform and waved her hand over Potters head. "Please take this time to smarten yourselves up in a manner befitting this school."

Sirius glowered as he moved to tuck his coverlet into his trousers.

James Potter just smiled and said, "I really don't think we can smarten ourselves up _before_ school has even started, Professor."

Sirius, a mix of awe and amusement tried suppressing his grin. The first years seemed as if they didn't know whether to laugh or move away from the Potter boy. McGonagall's mouth pursed very tightly. Sirius leaned a little closer to Potter.

"I shan't repeat myself, Mr. Potter."

McGonagall led them into the hall. Lily's hand was tightly wrapped around hers. The memories she had inside of her were rising up like vomit, the tables in the great hall whole, then destroyed. She was doing everything she could to suppress it.

She wasn't seeing the sea of students all in their pointed hats and robes look at her with that vague sort of interest. She lurched by fixating on the hat. It wasn't that she concerned about house loyalty, no, but there were other things.

The hat was on a chair. Its brim opened and it began to sing -

 _Come All,_

 _you young wizards and witches within Hogwarts walls_

 _Sit and be in the thrall,_

 _Under the sky of the great Hall_

 _May you sit and listen as one_

 _Until my tale telling is done_

 _Ravenclaw, her brow clear and fair_

 _Thought that with knowledge there was no despair_

 _Hufflepuff, her heart kind and open wide_

 _Believed that a true and just character could not a toil-less day abide_

 _Gryffindor, his hand broad and strong_

 _Did seek those with the nerve to right the wrongs_

 _Slytherin, his spirit ambitious_

 _Inspired cunning thought, heart desire and action to be judicious_

 _A thousand years and more_

 _In my head I can score_

 _Whatever aspect of the founding four_

 _You place above and adore_

 _Now, united as one_

 _Separated as four_

 _You return to to this great Hall_

 _Ambitious, Strong_

 _Fair and True_

 _After I am placed on top of you_

 _So come one by all_

 _It won't take long_

The hat, she thought, wasn't put on this earth to sing- and yet, it was as if there was nothing else it could do.

She had listened carefully to the song but Lily was whispering something into Severus' ear, and had not let go of her hand. She couldn't summon the energy to be curious enough to pry, but she was gaining focus again after that first anxious wave. McGonagall took her place near the chair with the long list of names and began reading them aloud.

Then, she called "Black, Sirius."

Sirius brushed by her. He wasn't looking at anyone, not even McGonagall. She held the hat out to him with two fingers. The Slytherin table produced a small clatter of polite claps, like small raindrops before the thunder.

He stood staring at it for just a moment before sweeping it over his head. It was silent and Sirius moved to sit down.

"GRYFFINDOR."

The Great Hall was still and Sirius didn't move- until the Gryffindor table erupted in laughter and whooping calls, clapping for him. He grinned and ran towards the table, McGonagall swiping the hat off his head irritatedly.

There were more students than she had remembered McGonagall reading aloud when she was first sorted. It took longer to get to E than to get to G, but still she was one of the first to go and the first of the set of Evans.

"Evans, Hermione,"

She moved forward. It was important for her to be appropriately placed. Her sister held on her hand still and moved up a little with her. She wanted to demand from the Hat- why, how could it have possibly had the rationale to place Peter into Gryffindor. Lily let go of her hand. She wanted to ask the Hat- wanted to be sure that the hat wouldn't peek inside her head and let slip to Dumbledore anything she wasn't ready to let slip- wanted to know if it could have stuffed Harry inside of itself so she could meet with the blade of Gryffindor himself.

She took the hat, then sat down, holding it in her hands and looking at the wrinkles that made up its pseudo face and oddly misshapen brim. She put it on her head. Much easier than last time, she thought with odd clarity.

 _What have we here? Already been sorted- a good long laborious time of it, too- must be-_

She thought fiercely, 'Wait!'

The proclamation did not come. _Questioning your ...positioning? You haven't even considered Slytherin. You'd be a veritable force._

Hermione stilled. It was right. She hadn't thought- it had been so long she had thought of that off-handed line in _Hogwarts: A History._ As the years grew darker and ideology more pronounced she dismissed it as extraneous, nothing more than a throw-away line to appease those who sought cursory equality. Harry wouldn't have dismissed the rule, and Draco wouldn't have hesitated to exploit it.

It had possibilities.

 _You have ambition, you are cunning, and oh- how it would serve you for your plans. So much power._

Last time it was more concerned about whether or not Ravenclaw was better for her. She was the longest hat stall next to Harry, and there hadn't been another.

 _Always thinking, but are you ever thinking bigger than your own cause? Ravenclaw's first instinct would be for knowledge, not its purpose._

She was suspicious of how much it was having her consider Slytherin. There was also the matter of Peter Pettigrew and the secret she was carrying.

 _Think so little of an artifact do you- ?_

'Not little- just-', She knew it had more inside of it- and still half hoped to find Harry inside fully ready to be called forth like the sword of Gryffindor itself. The answer was like a reminder, the hat was bound to the orders of its creation and would not betray its purpose- nor deviate from the bits of it's creators.

 _You would cut out your own heart and come back to watch it bleed. Salazar would have loved you, respected you, feared you, and Godric… would have had difficulty looking at you- fear never stopped him from carving out bits of himself either._

The hat sounded sad. She had so many more questions, clear thinking as she was now.

 _I am afraid it's already been done. You've stalled long enough and there's a Sorting to be completed._

GRYFFINDOR.

The Hall had begun talking for the delay that was taken, the scattered applause from the Gryffindor table was inattentive. She stood up slowly. Lily rushed over just as McGonagall called her name. Hermione took the hat off and met her sisters small nervous smile. She made her way to the spot that Sirius was applauding over- saving her seat. Severus was looking very pale, Potter as if she had done something interesting.

She looked back as she sat down next to Sirius, to see the Head table whispering.

Flitwick was animatedly whispering back and forth to Lugaid and to an old man she didn't recognize.

Lily was sorted in short order and quickly ran to join her. They watched and greeted Longbottom and Lupin. Then, like a coal stuck in her throat, she watched as Pettigrew kicked his legs on the chair and had a range of expressions. She watched Dumbledore sit back and tap his fingers together in the background.

Turgid, she looked away and down. Lily whispered "Are you ok?"

She nodded. She wasn't.

He took so long to be sorted that Hermione watched the professors consult with each other curiously once more. McGonagall's face was inscrutable as she watched.

GRYFFINDOR!

She didn't know what she expected, but her heart fell. She couldn't bring herself to clap. Lily watched as Severus joined the Slytherin table but she didn't look up from the table.

Dumbledore, silvery and auburn haired, with snappy robes with flaring collars and cuffs stood up with more spring than she remembered. With no less power, he commanded the room.

Dumbledore had finished saying some nonsense and some very good sense about staying away from the forest.

The plates appeared before them and she allowed Lily to ply her with food. She ate mechanically. A small headache forming and her stomach was sensitive.

Lily took her hand and guided her through the areas in which the prefects guided her through. She wiggled her hand and whispered, "Help me remember the password, ok?"

When Hermione found her room with Lily and four other girls, she told Lily she needed to sleep.

Lily looked torn. The other girls were being nice to her and she wanted to send their parents the news, Hermione knew.

She gave her an encouraging look. "Just a headache, Lily- I am fine."

She wasn't.

She shed her clothes and pulled on her nightgown, drew the curtains and cried herself to sleep.

* * *

AN: Yo- please love me poem skills n' clues I be rainin' down on youse.


	9. 1: I : 8 : Onset

**Act I: Childhood**

 _strategy over the years and achieve the spirit of the warrior. Today is victory over yourself of yesterday; tomorrow is your victory over lesser men.:_ Miyamoto Musashi

In which reality sets in, and the pieces are in motion.

 _Chapter 8: Onset_

* * *

There were faces in her dreams, some that she recognized, but they were all dying. She watched, helpless, digging into the wet ground, but had to stop because she discovered a strange spinning wheel. Pricking her finger on a spindle, it bled. Blood poured into the ground and grew into trees that stuck up like wands. She ran- carrying the wheel that became heavier and heavier, and fog rose all around her until she found Ron.

Ron was suspended, spinning over and over and over, as he was struck by the curse that slithered through him. The wheel was crushing her, she strained to reach him. The curse ran through him after what seemed like a hundredth time and coalesced into shadowy cloaked figure. It reached out to her. Before it could touch her she woke as if breathing in for a scream.

Opening her eyes she saw only red. She laid there sweating, rigid, feeling her heart pound in her chest until she realised that it was the fabric of the curtains.

It took her longer before she could tell herself that she was in the girls dormitory, and fully exit her nightmare. Crookshanks mewled and jumped up on the bed, coming to purr next to her neck. She put her hand over his tiny furry body and tried to re-orient herself.

Lily opened her curtain and peeped in at her. Hermione looked at her.

Lily crawled in and closed the curtains. Hermione made room. The girls sat for a while in silence before Lily said, "It's our first day."

Hermione nodded. She had intended to be up much earlier to start her litany of tasks she had ahead of her.

Lily said, "Don't worry, we can do it."

There was a knock on the door, and a girls voice called out "Breakfast starts soon, and you don't want to be late getting your schedules from Professor McGonagall."

It was going to be the first day of classes today and Hermione felt nothing like she had imagined she would feel.

* * *

Hermione subtly walked the other first year girls who had introduced themselves to the Great Hall.

Marlene McKinnon talked animatedly, her fresh face bright about the surprise of a _Black,_ specifically Sirius ('how do you even know him?') being sorted into the Gryffindor ('so excited to sit you over by him, Hermione').

"I certainly never expected it, but my cousin Fene was absolutely _crowing_." Marlene tossed her strawberry blonde hair back. "She's in Ravenclaw, and just had the best view of Narcissa Blacks' face- her jaw actually opened." Marlene gushed, as if everyone had known that Narcissa kept her mouth shut and nose up.

Hermione recalled Narcissa Malfoy as an image, like a smudge in paint. She blinked shaking her head as the girls passed her. They had reached the Great Hall.

Darla's hair hung around her petite face in brown tangles and looked about as politely impressed as Lily did. She made some 'oh really- hmm' mumble comment.

Lily said, "I mean, it must happen all the time though- you said your siblings were in Hufflepuff."

Marlene shook her head, "Not to the Blacks. They're _all_ in Slytherin."

Darla then said, "I suppose so." and shrugged her delicate shoulders as the group reached an empty spot at the Gryffindor table.

Darla sat with a grace contradictory to the greedy look in her eye. She continued as Marlene and Lily sat by her, pulling the toast and marmalade over to her plate, "My parents didn't go to Hogwarts, so I suppose I don't really understand but- it certainly seemed to be important."

Lily was conspicuously quiet on the subject of Slytherin. Like in their public school, Hermione took her lead and remained quiet, as she plated some tomatoes and sausage for herself.

Marlene tsked, and with a tone that said she was slightly put out that no one was revealing quite as much as she in this gossip, "They're practically royalty you know."

The rest of the table was steadily pouring in, and Lily nudged Hermione's shoulder. Hermione looked up to see Severus come into the Great Hall looking rather small, and very alone. He sat at the end of the table, hyper focused on his food.

Lily leaned forward, "Are we allowed to sit with other people at their tables?" Marlene looked at her as if she were asking loony questions and Darla looked confused.

Lily pointedly looked over at Severus ripping into his bread. Marlene turned around to look at him and _looked_ back at Lily- she said, "That one? No. You're daft."

Hermione had begun to cut into her tomatoes and sausage but seeing them together on the plate brought back her dreams and she paled. She pushed away her plate.

Lily said, "What- he's my friend."

Marlene said, "I was talking about the table. You will have to be invited to sit at _that_ table. You can have him come over here-" She looked behind her again at Severus eating with his hands.

His classmates sat very close together, which just so happened to be far away from him.

Marlene gave a little shake of her head and glanced pityingly at her. "Doesn't look like it could do him much harm, sitting here with us- if you really wanted him to." Marlene sounded like she didn't really want Lily to really want him here.

Hermione said, "I'll go talk to him." She got up before Lily could protest. She began walking around the table and just reached the doors when the cohort of first year Gryffindor boys came through the hall.

Remus waved, looking concerned and eager. Frank tried to wave, but enthusiastically smacked a boy next to him that she didn't know. She sort of vaguely waved them over to where Lily sat and walked purposively to Severus.

The arrival of the morning post of Owls had also arrived in a flurry, her eyes followed the truly impressive display- likely the traditional curiosity of house sorting and forgotten items.

She glanced over to see Lily and Remus quite taken with the wisdom of post owls.

She stopped under the green and silver tapestry and leaned on the table space directly across from Severus. Quietly she said "Lily wants you to come to our table, but I understand if it's not a good choice for you right now."

He didn't directly look up at her.

She leaned back up and met the sidelong glances of the other Slytherin students. She could make out some first years, one of whom she had met on the train, turn their nose up at her.

Staunchly ignoring the young side of the table was a few sixth and fifth years, Narcissa Black among them.

The smudged image from her memory was suddenly crisp. Narcissa Malfoy clean and cold at the Quidditch World cup. Then suddenly, Narcissa, Draco's mother, desperate and disheveled.

Narcissa Black silently cut her morning peaches into small pieces.

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione decided that she would need to apply her summer learning sooner rather than later, and _create_ an opportunity to engage with them on a level that she could challenge them.

Resolute, she looked at Severus who was glaring at his bread and she said warningly, "I would wish you luck, but you better pick up some skills to go with it." Severus stiffened.

She turned on her heel and saw Professor McGonagall reach the first years at the Gryffindor table and walked faster. She got there just in time for her to hear McGonagall say to Remus, "Dumbledore needs to see you in his office. Finish quickly, and then find me. I will escort you there."

Remus was torn between making respectful eye contact and bashedly looking down. Potter was simultaneously rolling sausages and scooping eggs onto his and Remus' plate in too large portions.

Potter and Sirius both perked up, inordinately interested in McGonagall's request.

McGonagall handed Hermione her schedule and Hermione gave her the best smile she could muster. "Thank you Professor. I am excited to start classes."

Professor McGonagalls countenance warmed, and moved on to the next group.

Remus sat back down, Black was giving him an appraising look. Potter took this opportunity to fill Sirius' plate with three sausages while the other boy was distracted.

Lily scoffed, her lip condescending as she watched Potter pile food on their plates. Darla glanced between them, amused.

Hermione flicked through the schedule and noted that not much had changed.

Sirius and Potter nudged Remus until the boy was pressed up against both of their shoulders, his hair acting as a poor shield for his blush.

Sirius said "You're already getting called to the Headmasters office, what a rebel-"

Potter said, "A rebel to join our rebel crew- we thought you were a stiff-"

Sirius said, "Maybe corruptible."

Lily was about to scoff as loudly as she could but was cut off by Hermione, "Leave him alone- he needs to eat."

Remus stuttered looking at his mountain of food, "Po-James, I really can't eat all of this."

Hermione glanced up at the high table and saw one teacher she didn't recognize, but that Lugaid and Flitwick were having a chat. Lugaid flicked his attention over to her and gave a smile as he continued his conversation.

Sirius gasped as he looked at his plate- "What have you done Potter, this is absolutely mimsy- this eating challenge. Here, I shan't stand for it."

"Bollocks, I can, look here," then Potter stood up.

Hermione said, "Whatever it is you're about to do to make fools of yourselves- please do it after I leave. Grab a bread roll, Remus, stuff a sausage in it and let's go find Professor McGonagall."

Potter placed his hand over his heart and looked affronted. "Oh my- You are so _swotty_. You are a swotty wet blanket- you have affronted my honor and the honor of the most Ancient and Noble house of Potter and the most Ancient and Noble house of Black! I challenge you to an eating duel! Black you're my second."

Remus was hurriedly stuffing a sausage on his plate in a bread roll. The rest of the table and a few of the other nearby students started snickering.

Hermione put her hands on her hips, "I decline. Seeing as I have no house and feel no such thing close to an affront on my honor."

Sirius jumped up, "Fear not! For I shall be your champion!"

Remus was almost knocked over wiggling out of his seat. Hermione spared a glance to her sister who had both hands on the table and her mouth agape half in horror. Hermione could tell the other half was barely suppressed excitement.

Potter tsked, and put his hand on his hip, "Black- that's not how this works, you can't champion for the person that you're supposed to be fighting against."

Remus and Hermione walked away, Remus looking back with an expression of wistful joy. The other students who were watching were tittering. Maisy Sumers, newly a Hufflepuff, was giggling with a sweet faced first year Gryffindor girl.

Black picked up a sausage, "I think I hear the sound of cowardice- a Gryffindor never runs from a fight." He pointed the sausage at Potter. There were catcalls and boos from the Gryffindor table from the older students.

Potter crowed, "The Food Eating challenge has been accepted!"

Hermione and Remus ducked out of the Great Hall to find McGonagall just as the voice of the Prefect girl exclaimed, "Oi!- I knew you two were going to be trouble!"

* * *

Hermione walked into the first class with the plan of slipping by. However, Hermione saw no reason for failing in areas where she had succeeded in her first year at Hogwarts.

Ada slid in next to her, flashing her a smile. Hermione was glad to see her again.

For their first class of Transfiguration, Sirius and Potter were both holding their stomachs nearly for the full hour. Both of them were very seriously impressed with McGonagall's display of animagus transformation. She then began to sternly lecture them on the rules of transfer of energy, and E's laws of transformation, and many of the students lost their energy for the subject.

Their first class where they were to use wands ruined her plans of slipping by with her twin.

Flitwick had given much the same lecture as she had first heard, still atop his podium of books, but with less skill and more theory. It was an interestingly advanced and lively explanation- but she admittedly thought would be better done in segments through the semester.

He was talking about the mastery levels of a spell. The wand was to be used as a conduit, and true mastery of the spell had never lain with _a force_ of application. He was encouraged by Lily and Hermione's unabashed interest, but realised that the class was losing focus.

He cleared his throat and his voice pitch lowered from the height of academic excitement, "Why don't we start practicing wand movements?"

Lily drew her wand nearly blazing with excitement and joy. Hermione smiled at her. Marlene was seated next to Lily, and Hermione was seated next to Remus, both with varying levels of happiness.

Beside Remus was Pettigrew, and behind them both was Potter and Sirius. The Slytherin first years were seated divided at the opposite end of the room. Severus among them, off to the side.

Later, she would think back to her positioning of being fully visible in the classroom and cringe.

Once the books were cleared and the feather lay in front of her, Flitwick explained for the last time simple instructions. Thinking to wait for Lily to succeed first, Hermione watched her twin with no small amount of pleasure. Lily, with a little correction on the pronunciation, performed the spell perfectly. It hovered just in front of her.

Flitwick with a small jump and a few claps awarded Gryffindor five house points. Severus his wand upright in a white- knuckled grip burned holes into the small professor.

Hermione then set to work on her feather, saying the incantation clearly and loudly and with the correct movements and- nothing happened.

She was shocked. She attempted, as she had done with spells in the past, to simply and mechanically force magic out with a bit of a mental push laced with the first bite of emotion. It did not come to her at all. In fact, it stubbornly refused to rise. The wand seemed foreign and complex the longer she sat with it.

For the rest of the class period, she sat with a bubble of desperation under her collarbone and tried not to panic as the feather stubbornly refused to move and her magic refused to flow through the wand.

Flitwick had visited her desk and tried to comfort her with a bit of sage advice on practice at the end of the class period, but she just couldn't seem to bring herself to meet his eye.

* * *

Hermione had begged off from the group of girls, and the Slytherin group edging towards them, saying she had to go to the library "-just really quickly".

Speaking over others, not hearing a word of what was being said, and through the pounding of a headache, she grit out a promise that she'd meet them in the Great Hall for lunch.

Then, she practically ran down the hall as voices grew louder.

She needed some way to test whether the spell was being cast. If it was, or wasn't, or if there was something in between.

The Reverse Spell could be cast easily enough by an older student who wouldn't ask too many questions - perhaps Edan, the Hufflepuff prefect. She would find him at lunch or dinner perhaps and ask him then for a favor. He seemed kind enough to care to help and empathetic enough to fill in the blanks on his own.

She immediately located the section she had remembered seeing books on magical theory. They looked mostly in disrepair, dusty, and catalogued on the very top corner where theory books began. One seemed relatively new and she tried to read the spine from where she was but the torch light reflected the writing.

One of the books she could make out was titled ' _How we get by_ '. The other seemed to be almost totally disconnected to the subject area itself, stamped simply ' _Wild Magic._ '

She had to grab a stool for the first time in eight years to reach the top shelf. Looking through them she was disgusted to find that they didn't appear to be very useful. She didn't bother with that new looking book, the dreadful ' _Defensive Magical Theory_ ' by that simpering stuffy Slinkhard.

' _How we get by: the wandless wayward witches and wizards wearied way_ ' was written by a very pretentious Professor Cluinious MacCoombe and seemed to be an ethnography on the hapless individuals who have had their wand snapped. She reluctantly tucked it under her arm.

' _Wild Magic_ ' was half written in some kind of language she couldn't recognize and half in old english. She snorted to clear out the dust in her nose and also from derision of the book being completely inaccessible to the common student.

It was incredibly thick and it's pages were nearly at the end of their protective ward. It tingled her fingertips.

She put it back and climbed down, the throbbing behind her eyes temporarily blinding her.

There was one book she remembered picking up out of curiosity in the history section years ago when she had gotten ' _Modern Magical History_ ' for a bit of background reading- another of Bathilda Bagshot's books titled ' _The Decline of Paganism_ ' that she may consider picking up again to use as a starting point to find other names.

She frowned, trying to make quick and good decisions in between the pounding between her temples.

' _Modern Magical History_ ' apparently hadn't been published yet as it wasn't in the library catalogue when she checked out of curiosity. She pinched her nose and tried to relieve her headache pressure. She tiredly reminded herself to watch out for referencing things that weren't yet published.

Some books she felt were promising as a general guide in the differences between magical schools and then- trading a daft sounding title for another, selected one that would be viable to use as an excuse to pursue the Occlumency books in the restricted section. It would 'introduce by way of reference' to Occlumency so she could request a slip to go into the restricted section. A biography ' _Sorcerous- what makes a wizard a sorcerer_ ' caught her eye and, almost resigned, she put it atop her pile.

The stack was quite large and she laid them out in front of a much younger than she remembered Madam Pince. Madam Pince peered at her behind her stack of books and raised a single eyebrow. She tried to smile guilelessly. Again, she reminded herself, her acting skills needed work.

* * *

Hermione stuck her nose in a book as soon as she sat down for lunch and pretended read while she forced herself to eat. Her head complained everytime she used her jaw muscles and the weight of her bag was no help. Lily gave her a displeased look that she knew meant that she was going to be forced into talking about it later.

Alice Fawcett, the sweet faced first year in Gryffindor who had next next to Maisy, was sitting next to her this time. She was introduced sometime during the transit between Transfiguration and Charms Hermione vaguely recalled.

Alice said, "You know, it's okay if you didn't get it on the first try. Loads of people aren't so great at charms." Alice pushed a lock of mousy brown hair away from her milky, plump face. Hermione looked up at her from her book to avoid being rude. From this angle, she was strongly reminded of Neville. The sick feeling wrenched up in her stomach again.

She said curtly, "Thank you- Alice."

Alice pinked lightly, and then Marlene engaged the girls in a game of speculation for the next teacher's personality. History of Magic was next and Hermione was preemptively disappointed for them.

Hermione absently kept them on the right track when it was time for class. She was lost in her thoughts that seemed to fuzzily pile up together, ghosts and histories too stark and disconnected to make much sense of with a renewed sense of oppressive urgency.

The girls all took positions grouped together around the farthest end of the door closest to the blackboard. Hermione chose the seat furthest back, with her back to the wall. Lily looked at her suspiciously from her seat at the front of class, but Hermione just smiled and pulled out her planner, Bathilda Bagshot's ' _A History of Magic',_ and a notebook.

Lily slowly did the same and gave her a frustrated glower while she mimed her. Oh yes, Lily was going to corner her later. Her headache that had been receding, started to return with a vengeance.

The rest of the class filed in, Remus and Peter coming in with a group of Hufflepuffs, including Maisy, who bid goodbye to an individual beyond the door. Maisy caught her eye and waved energetically. Hermione gave a little smile but then the shuffle for seating grew noisy. There were several people still talking when Professor Binns floated through the chalkboard.

Lily's and a few others seats jumped back. She had her hand over her heart and looked back to Hermione as if to say 'What is with these ghosts!?' Hermione shrugged.

Professor Binns reedy old voice already had began to drone. He began his lecture without a pause.

"Settle down students, settle down. For our first class for first years, we begin with the beginning of our most recent written history of Hogwarts in the medieval era in which we learn about the eccentricities of Uric and Emeric, respectively the Oddball and the Evil."

Some students looked at each other worriedly. Maisy tried scribbling everything as fast as she could but looked up, immediately lost. Hermione remembered that it was precisely where Ron and Harry mixed up Uric and Emeric. She was absent mindedly drawing up a study schedule that she had mastered in third year, her memories of which were now starkly clear. She was half heartedly using the ledge of the notebook in an attempt to keep up appearances.

"It is important for you to note that the era of aggression was marked by the skirmishes that plagued the noble houses of teutonic descent and was eventually brought to head upon the soil of the Red house of this castle. Plagued by skirmishes that reflected the conflicts past the English soil-" Binns droned.

The rest of the class, fascinated at first with a ghost Professor grew quickly bored, and those who were trying to keep up realised he wasn't going to stop or slow.

"There is much you must know about beyond the seas, but this textbook will reveal your primary concerns of Hogwarts centric information. Hogwarts was founded in the medieval era, prior to the statute of secrecy which made the political landscape very different from what you may imagine."

Hermione raised her eyebrow, filling in the sparse outline in her History of Magic notebook. Her eyes wandered back up to her annotation of E/Evil- U/Odd.

She stilled at Emeric the Evil. She had followed his name as a clue to the legend of the Elder Wand.

She furrowed her brow and looked at Professor Binns. There didn't seem to be any mention of skirmishes with the Red house of Gryffindor in the _History of Magic._ The way that it was written was more of a snapshot for important moments and their significance. It was also filled with useless bits of information that really only delighted individuals who were truly invested in the subject such as the absurd half page dedicated to the jellyfish hat of Uric the Oddball. There was nothing mentioned about the conflicts 'overseas' either.

She spared a moment to lament the bias of Hogwarts Academics, thinking of that MacCoombe character's observations she would have to flick through, and sighed.

The first few days of the History of Magic in her first year she had tried to listen intently. Eventually, she found it more prudent to read from the book while he gave his lectures, and take notes directly. It was to avoid being put to sleep by the ghosts dreadful vacuum tone, and to stay on track if her mind wandered.

It may be time for her to listen more carefully, she thought a little regretfully. She continued planning her schedule and listening with one ear- doing her best to ignore the annoying heachache she had been saddled with. On her schedule she included a list of theories for why her wandless magic wasn't working, and set time aside for writing out a schematic to test whether there were any logical conclusions she could draw, and listed some things she could do almost immediately in Hogwarts, like find that Diadem.

* * *

Potions class was held in Horace Slughorn's room with the first year Slytherins. It took the Gryffindors a bit of time to arrive because some of the first years had fallen asleep.

Lily immediately found Severus who was sitting by himself at a cauldron table. He looked torn. He looked at Lily like she quenched his thirst and shot guarded looks over at the Slytherins as if they may take it away. Most of them were pretending not to watch him.

A more able and less fat Professor Slughorn boomed a merry hello at his students as he came into the room.

Spotting the standstill in the front he moved quickly, "Ah, perfect, just sit down where ever, yes- there you go, girl." Lily promptly sat, beaming at Severus. He lifted the corner of his lips in a small smile.

Hermione set her things down and found herself to be paired with Remus. Remus looked a little concerned, as he had all day. Her headache had dulled her energy and probably had soured her countenance all day, but she would still try.

They set out their textbooks and paper while Hermione tried to find a good moment to whisper a note to Remus between Professor Slughorn's introduction.

Hermione found that she had particularly strong feelings towards Professor Horace Slughorn after the battle at Hogwarts that had left so many dead and wounded. She swallowed heavily.

Professor Slughorn, despite his many flaws, in the end proved to be a valuable ally; so a part of her wanted the same recognition she had earned from him the first time.

Professor Slughorn had just finished going over some basics about the potions safety before explaining that they would be familiarising themselves with a proper stocking procedure and library of ingredients and school cauldrons.

"School warded and charmed cauldrons will be used for two reasons-" He held up a finger and said, "One to introduce students to industrial grade pewter cauldrons. Some of my students do get too used to their nicer pots, eh?" He looked towards some of the Slytherins with brass cauldrons.

Then he smiled with a bit too much cheer and held up another finger, "To prevent any truly disastrous combinations from destroying what is often an expensive investment!" Hermione thought that this was quite a good way of doing things, and not for the first or last time shot Severus an irritated look at the back of his head.

With a cheery sort of mysteriousness he then asked whether or not anyone knew why the potions were to be stirred in a particular way. "It's something that I didn't explain, but you know I do like to see who can bring some connections to the table outside of rote memorisation."

No one raised their hand. After a few moments where Hermione debated whether to raise her hand or wait for Severus to answer, Lily raised hers.

"Now, who are you?" Professor Slughorn asked her with a smile of interest.

She primly said, "Lily Evans, Sir. I may be wrong, but as far as I can gather it's fairly simple. Potions ingredients follow their own rules. If the potions ingredients aren't mixed with the proper ingredients first- you won't have the right consistency- like non-magical cooking. I imagine, working with magical ingredients is a bit more dangerous."

The Professor let out a "Ah-ha! Such a clever explanation. What Evans'es are you related to, dear girl?" His walrus mustash nearly curled with pleasure.

Lily smiled and looked back at Hermione- pointing, "That one, sir." She turned back to her potions Professor, her jaw at a little bit of an upturned angle. Hermione remembered Harry with a jolt.

Lily had been listening. In the short amount of time since last night, the conversation at breakfast, whispers about Hermione's suitability had passed to other houses during lunch, she had understood that family was important. Being a muggle-born may not have mattered about getting into the school, but it mattered in some way.

Hermione sucked in her lips and chuffed. Professor Slughorn was charmed by Lily's cheek.

Remus looked at Hermione and then behind Hermione to Potter and Black, whom Hermione assumed looked surprised.

Severus leaned away from Lily and gave the red haired girl next to him a considering look.

Professor Slughorn said, "Ah- well I will give points to your Hogwarts family at least! Five points to Gryffindor, for knowledge and a charming amount of cheek! Now, who can tell me why following the instructions on handling ingredients is of the utmost importance? It's something that I didn't explain either, but -"

Lily looked pointedly at Severus. He seemed to stiffen the longer that she looked at him.

Professor Slughorn gently said, "Young man, might you know the answer?"

Severus when addressed, would have never declined to answer a Professor, "Sir- the ingredients are to be treated in accordance to the properties which you desire to extract. Should you smash an ashwinder egg, for example, it will have little effect in comparison to heating it until it bursts- due to the nature of ashwinders- sir." Severus looked as if he would have had more to say but thought better of it and kept his mouth shut.

Slughorn looked as if there was a bit of a twinkle in his eye as he looked at the pair before him, "Very good, young man- what is it your name was, you seem familiar…"

Severus Snape said, "My mother's name was Prince, Eileen. I am Severus." Lily clearly crossed her arms at this but Severus' fists were tight on his thighs.

Hermione thought it was a bit odd- he should know his students, for afterall he was their head of house. Then again, Horace Slughorn may have been a decent man, but he possessed a decent amount of flaws.

"I see," Slughorn said, "Excellent answer, excellent indeed, 5 points to Slytherin!"

After he finished stressed following directions again, he told them to open their books and begin brewing the simple first potion of the Boil Cure. He would be monitoring the class as well.

Hermione opened her book immediately to the recipe page and gave it to Remus. She got up and told Remus to follow her and read the ingredients they needed to her aloud as she fetched them.

Most other students hadn't figured out where the index stopped and the chapter began. Lily and Severus looked to be discussing something rather heatedly.

She said as they reached the cupboards away from others, "You seem to be a bit worried, Remus. Anything troubling you?"

Remus exclaimed, "No! I mean, are you alright? What happened today was pretty bad- I heard Yaxley saying some pretty nasty stuff."

Hermione shrugged, she had literally no time to give the comments that were made after Charms class and had not been personally affected. In fact, she had been prepared for this type of foul prejudice and was preparing to destroy it.

She gave him an encouraging smile. "I'll figure it out. If I don't-" she growled as she turned to the ingredients cabinet, "I'll eat the sorting hat."

Remus said "Erm- isn't it, 'I'll eat my hat if-?'- nevermind. I am upset for you. It's not as bad being half-blood, but with pure-blood sentiments really becoming popular-"

Hermione handed him flobberworm mucus in a jar and the bagged onions. She frowned and said, "How many Shrake spines, Remus?"

He looked past the ingredients and said, "Six." Then quieter, "I'm sorry."

Hermione turned to him and said, "For what? Not reminding me that there's also ginger root in this boil cure potion?" She turned back to the cabinet and was looking down alphabetically for the ginger root thinking back to whether Slughorn filed it under Ginger, or Root.

Remus looked down and mumbled, "No I just- thought maybe, I was being rude."

Hermione finally located Ginger root, filed under ginger- she certainly appreciated Snapes form of organization if not his method of teaching- and the cabinet nearly shut on her hand.

A pale boy with an overly pronounced bottom lip and drooping features said in a quiet voice- "It's not rude if it's the truth."

A boy with dark brown hair and wild eyebrows stood next to him and crossed his arms. "The truth is Evans- we're just not sure you're a witch."

Remus and Hermione stared at them unmoving. Hermione was taken aback that this was their approach- and on the first day!- but was quickly strategising what her next action should be. Lily and Snape were suddenly next to them.

The boy with the unfortunate down-turned eyes said, "At least you'll be able to scrape by in this worthless class. It's hardly magic. I am sure you'll manage with your mudblood cooking."

Snape, drawing his wand said angrily- "I'll curse you for that Yaxley-" his voice took on that rougher northern cut he had at times.

Hermione put her hand on Severus' hand as soon as Lily said, "Sev!" blocking him from Slughorn's view and she looked worriedly over her shoulder. Slughorn was currently helping Frank Longbottom hold a knife to avoid having his fingers sliced off.

Yaxley sneered. "Pathetic."

The other boy who had uncrossed his arms, warily looking at Severus' sharp wand, spat, "It's the truth. Potions are no way to tell whether she is just a glorified squib."

Severus looked livid, but Hermione had finally decided what she would do. She said lightly, "Excuse me, please," and stepped in close. They sidestepped her. Yaxley was slow to his wand. She moved to open the cupboard of Ginger and turned her back to them.

She took her time choosing which ginger roots she wanted as she kept the door propped open with her body. She selected three vials, of which she handed to Remus, Severus, and then proffered a ginger root to Yaxley and to the boy with eyebrows crawling up his forehead.

Yaxley had turned his shoulder away from her and narrowed his eyes, and the other boy and crinkled his nose and furrowed his impressive brows together.

Hermione stated in a cool and pleasant voice, "In the future, I advise you to consider your potential allies more carefully." When they did not accept her ginger root, she put it on the counter. Other first years in the class had gathered around the school supplies cabinet.

Several other Slytherins were pretending to look for ingredients while Pettigrew and his partner Alice came to stand behind Remus and Lily.

Hermione continued, loudly enough so that the others in green could hear her very well. "Clearly, you do not care about your potions grade, but if you ever _do_ need assistance to make it up to my grade level, I would be happy to grant you a favor and tutor you. Provided, of course, you return a favor." She gave a smile that mostly was her baring her teeth and turned away. Remus took a cautious step backwards away from the group and bumped into Pettigrew.

"That is, if you can stand to accept a _mudblood_ as your superior." She could not help but toss over her shoulder.

There was a tense moment as she returned to their station alone, meeting Potter and Sirius' eyes as they were craning to look behind Slughorn. Slughorn turned with a teachers look and asked the class at large "What is taking so long over there?"

Hermione shrugged at them and turned back to her space, preparing her implements measuring scale and setting out an orderly space. The Professor began to walk over to the group just as Remus ducked out from the throng with the ingredients.

Slughorn looked at her set up as he passed and said with admiration, "Excellent preparedness Miss Evans!"

Hermione gave him a genuine smile of appreciation and helped Remus set the book up and order the ingredients.

Sirius leaned down from behind them and said with his arms hands hanging off the desk like a cat, "Oi- what was that about?"

Potter was hawk like, glaring over at the knot as if he missed something and was severely put out that he had not joined the fray.

Remus opened his mouth to explain but Hermione said, "Oh nothing."

Remus cocked his head, drew his eyebrows together and drew his mouth together. "It wasn't nothing."

Hermione shrugged and said, "They were posturing. Bored. I was a convenient target."

Remus bit the inside of his lip and looked a bit miffed. Sirius waggled his eyebrows at Remus, grinning lopsidedly. "C'mon mate, tell us." Peter and Alice came by and started setting up, not even pretending they weren't eavesdropping.

Hermione tuned out Remuses detailed play by play of what happened and she concentrated on temperature and preparing the ingredients diligently. She peeled and sliced before Potter exclaimed- "She _what-?_ "

Sirius Black gave out a little laugh. She couldn't believe that she missed Alphards relation to him. He said, "The Evans girls- eh? Thought they were swots- but they had us fooled."

Hermione prickled at that. She turned to Remus and said, "Am I going to be the only one preparing these ingredients or would you like to help at all?"

Potter and Sirius said "Oouer," at the same time and Remus blushed again. He picked up his knife and muttered sorry, she corrected his grip and he took another breath in and she said, "Stop apologising Remus. Not everything you do you have to be sorry for. I am glad to have you and not either of those two gorms as my partner."

Remus nodded and was quiet as she filled the cauldron with water. She hoped that the same rules she had thought up in the house held true and that unlocking the magical potential in potions didn't require any extraction on her part. She looked over at Remus who was concentrating on trying to cube the ginger root.

She would try to remember how difficult it was for Remus to interact with people his own age and find fair footing with them.

She bit her lip, looking over at the cluster of Slytherins, otherwise this potion _and_ her first challenge to change would be in trouble.

* * *

Her and Remus' potion, as well as Lily and Severus' potion, turned out perfectly acceptable and was remarked on by Slughorn.

He just smiled and sent them on their way. Strangely, her head felt better after potions, and she hadn't even noticed that her stomach was aching until after the thick knot had eased.

She looked over at Potter, Pettigrew, Remus, Frank and Sirius who were engaged in an intense battle with a Prefect who had introduced herself as Jilly. She looked highly amused at the several bits of advice being tossed at a very serious Potter, but she crossed her arms stoutly and looked like letting him win was the last thing on her mind.

Alice, Darla and Marlene were talking about something with one of the older Gryffindor boys Killian Andrews who she remembered meeting on the train very briefly. He flashed her a smile when he caught her looking, and she shrugged and smiled weakly before turning back to her planner.

Lily hissed at her from across the desk, "Are you done with all of your homework now? Are you going to talk to me?" Hermione tapped her quill in more ink and pointedly scratched out another slot of her plan.

"Hermione- Hermione Rose, are you listening to me?" Her twin hissed.

Hermione shot a look over at Lily. Lily sat back relieved and said, "Do you want to go somewhere and talk about it?"

Hermione sighed with resignation and began to sweep up her stuff. "Upstairs while everyone is down here." Lily pursed her lips and gathered up their stuff in the far back round table.

Once upstairs, Hermione looked around and told her sister her most likely theory. "I think- it's a problem with me using my wand."

Lily put her stuff in her trunk at the foot of her bed and asked "What do you mean - doesn't it work for you?"

Hermione sat on her bed and drew her wand. She looked at it. Felt that it was right. She gave it a swish. Some trails of sparks flew out.

Lily took off her shoes and sat cross legged with her own wand. "I don't understand."

Hermione thought for a long while looking at her wand. "I don't know if I can explain it without sounding like a nutter."

Lily put her head in the palm of her hand and leaned forward. She said, "You've been a- well, you've been a little ...tense."

Hermione looked over at Lily sharply. Lily wided her eyes and leaned back- "I am saying only that you are more serious, more quiet and you really seem to be doing your best to plan every second of our year."

Hermione looked at her, her head swaying. "Lily-"

"It's alright Hermione. I am worried though- just, can't you get over it? Just maybe try to make friends here and don't worry about it so much." Lily looked at her sadly.

Hermione cast her eyes down. There was a few moments of quiet. Lily moved to get back up and said, "I will give you some time. I am going to talk with the girls downstairs."

Lily cared, but didn't know how to help and she hesitated at the door. Hermione got up off the bed and hugged her.

Lily went back downstairs.

Hermione prepared for bed. She looked at her planner and the empty room around her and tried not to think about how alone she was. She had known that would need to join things like the Slug Club, form relations so that she could use things to her advantage, spend weeks researching and practicing. Yet...

She almost wished for a troll to come crush her again rather than have to do this alone again, then at least it would be more possible that she'd have friends if there was a troll involved somehow.

* * *

AN: Story progression currently: much exposition and little nuggets. Details are important! Hopefully slice of life is enjoyable and informative. Draco and Harry are next.

Personal AN: Thank you everyone who has followed and fav'd this story- I appreciate it so much, and you have no idea how much it means to me that you're reading this. I'd love to tell me why you like it or even where you skip parts. I am undergoing a difficult dissertation process and any positive feedback gets me through the day!


	10. 0: I : 9 : Sift

**Act Parallel I: Lost**

 _:In the end, it is important to remember that we cannot become what we need to be by remaining what we are.:_ Max De Pree

 _ **In which Draco**_

sifts through the past, illusions and riddle

 _ **In which Harry**_

sifts through the present, truths and mysteries

 _Chapter 9: Sift_

* * *

Draco stood nauseated in his bedroom. His pale brow was dotted with a small line of perspiration, feeling vertigo rise up like wanting to vomit on an empty stomach.

A silent wind rushing clouds over moonlight made the the curtains covering his wide balcony window pulsate.

His long, manicured fingers smoothed down the lapels and trusses of his dress robes in effort to feel anchored but his hands were shaking. He tried to clear his thoughts, to gather up what it was that he knew and what he could do.

He had slammed his mind shut with Occlumency too fast, too hard, when his father came upon him in the garden. The hot fear had been stoking all day, and the immediate obsidian cool that quenched his mind had made his control brittle.

Death Eaters had manifested like mould into the Manor again. Their toxins permeating long before he had made his decision to abandon both the rotting Manor and his family. The aphotic dinner party tonight was a decadent impression of the time before the aftermath of the victory he had no recollection of. It was an event was more difficult to endure than he expected.

The socialising and drinks before dinner in the drawing room was particularly disturbing. He squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could, pinched his nose and tried to breathe.

He nursed his whiskey leaning against a corner, avoiding being drawn into the small circular conversations. His eyes fell the thick plush of the rug he stood in, and furrows that weren't there raked into his mind. It forced him to revisit the memory of Hermione's fingers scraping grooves in the rug as Bellatrix had dragged her across the drawing room. He remembered Bellatrix's eyes gleam in the dim, and the sound of Hermione's breath as she hyperventilated. His father putting his heavy hand on his shoulder. His mother still, and staring blankly out the window. He had upturned his whiskey to look away from the rug and tried to force back the memory.

But Hermione's screams ripped through his efforts, and the memory of her smeared blood on glass was bright. Bellatrix had compelled him to watch. She had been delighted to have a chance to demonstrate her skills to her nephew, whom could use a few lessons in dominance.

Swaying in his room, Draco tried not to think of the fish that he forced down for dinner this evening, refusing to look at his father. He had never needed any more lessons in dominance.

Bellatrix had such an easy time breaking into his mind when she was first teaching him Occlumency. She knew what a little weakling he was. He had no stomach for torture. No tolerance for pain. Oh, he could torment people in clever underhanded ways, picking at things when he could to remind them- remind himself- that he was superior. But that lie had tasted like ash in his mouth long before he realised he was never going to be capable of the dominance that his Aunt and Father had in mind for a person in his _position- asserting_ his rightful place.

He latched onto the exact moment that he had fallen out of his place.

It was a whisper that brushed through him, rustling weights and chains until something clicked. Clicked like his nose had when Hermione punched him. Clicked like his mother's tsk before she silenced Lucius with, "We both know that's not true." Clicked like when Snape struck his head with his wand.

He thought he had broken long before then, but somehow- he had put enough together and found a single thread, a scrap of traitorous strength which led him to misdirect his aunt with some ludicrous sentence- it took him all the way down into the dungeons where Ron was bellowing before he was really aware of what he was doing.

He had fled with Granger and the rest that night.

He felt sick from thinking too long on the horrors his aunt had visited upon him, and the clever witch he could only now admit he admired- and in some twisted way gave him hope with her friend The Dark Lords Quarry.

He had conflicted feelings about his choice- burning with the righteousness of it and lamenting his cowardly betrayal. He had decided too late in either case, but he had decided. He held onto that moment, that decision.

As he breathed, he felt more anchored. Risking opening his eyes, he found that his room was awash in a soft pale glow.

Draco narrowed his eyes.

Draco was proud of his intelligence.

He paled in comparison to bloody Granger -and of course, Potter who was naturally fucking _gifted_ at being special.

There was something he knew he was missing as he basked in the now serene glow of his room.

He furrowed his brows- and wiped his hairline as if he could wipe away visceral associations. He really needed to restructure his Occlumency barriers.

He shook back his shoulders and attempted to regain control of himself. He focused on constructing his Occlumency barriers, more carefully this time. In order to do so he had to re-compartmentalise and Occlude all of those irritatingly vivid memories.

He had something over the trio- being raised with magic, educated with the best tutors, and schooled in the old ways- and it allowed him to piece together clues. H suspected his state of mind was impacting his environment.

The door to his bedroom swung open and a soft voice called, "Draco? Honestly, I thought you were past hiding."

Draco whirled around, holding up his wand hand, and then nearly felt a wave of chills over his skin.

Impossible hair, smoothed into a quiet riot of curls. Big brown eyes curious, and soft. Care written into her expression.

She looked lovely- done up for the dinner. It wasn't the first time he had appreciated her appearance with breathlessness- _a_ _perriwinkle dress-_ \- but her being here at all overrode all other thought.

In two steps he was upon her, wrapped his arms around her, holding her as tightly as he could.

"Wh-Draco! You're cold-wh- I am having trouble breathing." She gasped out.

He pulled her forward and spun to close the door with his foot. He gripped her shoulders and held her against him, searching her face for any clue, any shadow that she wasn't real.

She looked at him in askance, clearly confused, but not affronted at his overly enthusiastic greeting. The tilt to her smile was the same, her quick searching eyes mischievous.

He let out a sigh of relief that sounded like a laugh, "Thank all the magic in my bloody veins, Granger is here to save the day."

She laughed- he didn't think he could remember hearing her laugh besides when she giggled like a madwoman that one time at Hogwarts.

She gently put her hands on his own. He knew he was gripping her too tightly but she didn't seem to mind.

She started, "You've left me alone with the wolves long enough you know, I arrived-" but he interrupted her- "What in the abyssal planes are you doing here?"

She shook her head and scoffed, looking at him like she wasn't sure he was putting her on.

Draco's head was buzzing.

She reached out her hand. His heart pinched and something in his throat winched shut. He could feel her soft hand along his skin. Sense was quickly running back into his head as the blood drained out of it.

A piece of information rose to the forefront of his mind like a card being flicked over. The ring his father mentioned. Hope rose in him like a balloon tethered to a needle.

Draco swallowed, "Answer me, -Granger, Hermione, answer me- why are you here, why did you come looking for me-?" Hermione Granger would never willingly- never _arrive_ to this Manor like this- like a well prepared, honored guest.

Her face grew concerned and she put both hands on his face, "Draco-what's wrong? Are you alright? You look pale-" her thumb ran over his bottom lip hypnotically. He felt the shields of his barely occluded mind shake. Thoughtlessly he leaned into her.

Draco allowed himself to steal this moment, a thirsty man at sea, as the mounting dread hammered at his heart. She had never done this before. He hadn't known that she would even want to speak with him other than out of a sense of obligation.

He put his hand to his heart. His other hand slid down to her side, resting at the bend of her hip. When he had woke this morning he could barely feel himself in his own skin- now his heart was beating a tattoo, too loud to be ignored.

The hellish planescape was becoming more complicated as it altered his state of being.

His father's talk of a ring and the event tonight- the layered expectation, another card flicked over. Weighted glances at him, another card. Hermione appearance as his resolve strengthened, a card.

Hermione tilted her face upwards, her lid's half closed and he felt electric. He half wished he had turned to see if she was the one laying next to him this morning. Hermione Granger was… beautiful and….

Then like the cut of his aunts knife- _the subservience bind_. Like cards falling into a deck, the realisation snapped together.

He revolted.

"No," slid out of him and he peeled away from her.

He held up his hand as if to ward her away, "No, you're- they'd never allow-" he clamped down before he could say something beyond the capabilities of his pride.

"You can't be Her- Granger, you're not _her_ or you're _not_ \- I would _never_ -"

Hermione's face blurred. That super-imposed layer was shifting. He looked on in horror as her veneer shifted to an unfamiliar acculturated doll, hair tame, hands gloved, green silk wrapped tightly around her middle, blood red lips perfect.

He felt sick again. His mind flooded with emotions as the last of his occluded compartmentalisation shattered.

He backed away to the door and watched as the last of Hermione Granger disappear under what he could only assume as a dull impersonation of her.

He turned, and two voices called after him as he ran.

 ***8*8*8***

He glared at the surface of the lake and held back the lump in his throat so tightly it burned at his eyes in protest. He returned to the spot where he had come as a boy, helplessly unable to break the habit.

He breathed through his nose and clenched his jaw but it wasn't helping. He slammed his fist into the tree he had partially hid himself behind.

He found the pain more reassuring than in sixth year. He felt heavier now. He felt more clearly connected to his body and he watched as the blood slowly oozed up from the openings in his skin with a sense of focusing satisfaction.

He looked at the familiar landscape. He would come here when his father determined that he had failed.

It was the one rule of the house that he could never bend. All other rules, he was taught, could be bent if you were clever enough, if you were creative enough, if you were powerful enough. If you were anything less than- why, failure was not tolerated in the Malfoy household. Masters were not allowed to fail.

 ***8***

The first time that someone had warned him that he would need to redouble his efforts to avoid serious failure was in second year. He remembered when Severus his god-father had called him from the common room to his office and sat with his hands steepled in front of his face. Severus had silkily informed him that his efforts in potions were no longer to be tolerated. He hadn't said who had inspired this new expectation, but he implied that his father would not enjoy seeing the rankings. He had crossed his arms and tried to petition the cross potions master to alter the grades if it was such a bother for him.

Snape had loomed out behind his desk and swept around him, "If you are so certain that it is only your relationship to me that secures your place and your rank, then your hold on your position is tenuous at best."

Draco had never felt as if his godfather had tangible any amount of particular distaste for him, but he knew that Lucius had _selected_ Severus because of his usefulness. He remembered thinking, as his twelve year old body flinched in the first burgeoning of fear of this man, that perhaps the usefulness that Lucius had mentioned carefully had nothing to do with Draco.

Severus Snape leaned down to meet him at eye level him, disgust curling his lip and his black eyes boring into his. "I would hate to see when that tenuous hold is challenged. Or worse, if your father is alive to see it ... _snapped."_ Draco flinched again and nodded. Severus stood back, his hands folded behind his back and nodded to the door.

Despite the professors callous dismissal, he hadn't told Draco's father that some one surpassed him in grades, and it had taken Draco a mere three potions classes to guess why. If Snape had told him a mudblood was ahead, he didn't know what would happen to his father's cool but mildly affectionate attitude towards him.

 ***8***

Principles guided the Malfoy family as they guided others. If the Malfoys were beyond questioning, then neither were their practices, their beliefs.

Failure wasn't tolerated by the Masters of Malfoy, either. That is why the farce of being selected for the murder of Albus Dumbledore was such an honor, and such a horrific way to grind Lucius Malfoy under heel.

 ***8***

"Eat or be eaten." Lucius sliced into a rare steak with a clipped tone. The cutlery flashed in the low light of the family dining room. Draco had looked with distaste at the meat on his plate, a puddle of what looked like blood soaking into the small petal of whipped potato.

Draco looked at his father, a whine in his throat, but Lucius gave his son a pointed look and the cutlery flashed again. Lucius stuck a piece of steak in his mouth and nodded to Dracos plate.

Draco looked to his mother. She was already chewing and had lifted her glass to hover before her mouth. She watched him cooly but not unkindly.

Draco tried, "It's _bleeding-_ Mother."

Lucius slammed his fist on the table-Draco jumped, tearing up immediately.

Lucius's voice was low, "Draco, this is the way that it is to be done." Draco blinked away the dribble of a tear as he placed the cut in his mouth.

 ***8***

There was no such thing as questioning the way that things were to be done. The justifications, if unwisely pressed for, were typically wrapped up in an esoteric lesson about power, of which Draco would need several years to understand the full implications.

That is why, when he arrived at Hogwarts with Crabbe and Goyle, he accepted that they were to be his pawns, and they were pliant to him in so far as he never lowered himself to their level. He could never be their peer, because he was to have no peer. It meant he could never be vulnerable with others.

But he was always so bad at being invulnerable.

When he had first challenged Harry Potter to a duel, he was irrationally upset when Ron jumped up to volunteer himself to be Potters second.

He never thought Ron was particularly brilliant, in fact he was laughably easy to taunt, trick and manipulate. He had a mixed-up bile of pity and anger towards Ron, and in a sort of wistful way it was because Ron could have been his friend- as impossible as he knew it to be.

 ***8***

Weasley was shouting at him. Harry was holding the body of his family's old House Elf. Draco didn't quite seem to understand what Weasley was saying, and didn't care. Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood, as well as the creepy goblin and wizard Ollivander, were all scattered around. No one was looking at him, except the Weasel.

He was still in shock from his own decision and just couldn't be bothered.

He finally shut up after Potter just said, "Ron," in that maddening Potter way of his.

After the funeral, in the cottage, Weasley wouldn't let him near Potter, he wouldn't let him even look at Hermione.

Ron's freckled face was the most irritating, infuriating thing he had ever bore witness to and when he said,"You don't deserve _anything_ , you pathetic, treacherous, foul, betraying ferret-"

Draco snapped and rushed at him, grabbing him by his collar and screeching, "I know! I betrayed my family, my father before he could kill me, before he had to kill me - or worse-"

He slammed Ron back into the wall, heaving his voice up through his throat. "You don't deserve to have what you've always had. You've never had to worry about whether you would ever really be _g-enough_ , you- Your _father_ -"

His voice stuck, and to his ever eternal burning shame cracked. To compensate- in a rage he struck him, but it was a wild and awkward shot and he lost his balance and reeled backward expecting to be leapt on. Draco flinched now just thinking about it.

Weasley looked confused holding his jaw, Potter and Granger had come into the room. Draco helplessly lifted his arm in their direction. "I just- I know the knife Au-, Bella-, -trix used. I can-" He waved his hand, breathless, words broken.

Weasley started forward with a sneer on his mouth.

Potter quietly said, "Ron, he's done enough- he gave up his family, and saved Hermione."

Hermione looked at Draco and with a lurch he realised she probably had something to do with the acceptance marking Potter's tone.

In an effort to smokescreen this raw wound to his pride and his bleeding vulnerability, he scoffed, "As much as that was worth." Like needles in his mouth.

They had watched as he smoothed over the cursed slices on her skin- the carving that matched his own hideous mark faded until they closed into thin white lines.

He sucked on his teeth and twisted his mouth. "Looks like I am a little too late- again." He gritted out. Still not able to apologise properly. There was a light hand on his shoulder, and he started- Potter looked at him gratefully.

Merlin he hated Potter, too. Naturally brilliant at flying, gifted in magical power, freedom, power influence- he was automatically just special, and loathing always seemed the only natural response. Somehow, though his traitorous loathing rolled over and showed it's true yellow bellied colors of envy.

Ron came to brush away the tear that had rolled off of Hermione's cheek. He hugged her and looked at Draco, nodding in what passed as some kind of gratitude.

Draco, still apparently a lunatic trapped in his own body, sneered "If that's what passes as gratitude for you Weasley I'd hate to think how under-appreciated Granger is- since at this point you practically owe her your life a hundred times over."

Granger, to her credit, gave out what sounded like a gasping 'ha' and turned to smile at Draco.

"Thank you- Draco. Honestly, I don't mind keeping a few scars."

Still a loon, and he would plead insanity for the rest of his life for the next sentence he blurted out- "Well as long as they got there by pure talent and didn't just _buy_ their way in." Hearing his given name from Hermione Granger had nothing to do with it.

Hermione looked at him, giving him that searching look he would come to covet with a greed that baffled him. It was Harry that got it first and guffawed in shock. Hermione chuckled wetly, but Ron looked like he agreed with Draco's secret opinion that he was mad.

 ***8***

Draco crouched by the pond, the moonlight reflecting off it's mirror like surface and he stuck his bleeding hand into the water gently.

He didn't want to think anymore. He didn't want to examine his begrudging respect, his self-loathing, his feelings about Potter or Granger and especially not Weasley.

He looked at his reflection, and wondered if they blamed him for their friends death.

The blood tendrilled like smoke under the water and he mediated on the sensation. He repacked all the tumultuous feelings and memories and started to cool his emotions as Snape had instructed him, and his mother helped him to do.

Occluding his mind was difficult. It didn't come naturally to him but he always applied himself.

Before he was fully Occluded, Potters face surfaced again on the water.

 **~8~8~8~8~8~8~**

Harry glared at the woman who was looking at him crossly. "Tell me how to contact my friends."

The woman had backed away from where she had grabbed the back of his shirt. She tilted her head in a disdainful sort of way, a braided cord of light brown hair whipping over her shoulder.

"You can see now."

Harry gestured towards his eyes- "Yes, brilliant, I am no longer blinded with mud because the water that I have seen my friends in cleared that up."

Her face soured and she turned and walked away.

Harry, who felt conflicted after having his vision repaired but with no answers tossed up his hands, "Why does no one ever tell me anything?"

He turned back to the water and knelt down again on the softbank. He washed his face, prodded rocks, smoothed the water, and called out to Hermione and Malfoy.

Eventually, when his knees and feet were beginning to go numb, he stood up. His skin prickled like someone was watching him. He turned and glanced through the trees.

It wasn't as oppressively dark as the Forbidden Forest, but there was a soft blur to the edge of the shadows. Ferns, moss, wild foliage and thick trees made it quite impenetrable.

He turned away from the pool. A small footpath that wound its way in an upwardly direction. He could only see grass and a grey misty sky over a hill.

There was a stone archway with runes that marked the top of the path sweeping down to the edge of the forest, but beyond that the silvery mist cloaked parts of his vision. He stood before crossing under it's large frame and peered at it.

It lacked the ominous quality of the other stone runic frames he had seen but uneasily he walked around it.

He followed the path, but came to a three way split which looked more trodden on than the path that he stood on.

Reaching for his glasses to push up his nose, he shivered in frustration and chill when his fingers found no glasses to push up. He scowled and picked a direction and continued walking. Harry felt again that something was watching him and he looked around.

He stood still, in an attempt to hear but it was quiet. He walked for a long while, and the path altered beneath his feet, from dirt to mud to stone to a thin trail of grass. Several times he considered turning back. He needed his wand, he was cold, wet and hungry. He became too hungry to think straight and eventually slipped and fell in a muddy creek. He gasped for air the fall into the creek took his breath away. He made a noise of pain, not moving quite yet as he tried to determine if the icy burn he felt in patches over his body were a serious injury.

A slippery sound above the waters burble made Harry start, and he stumbled backwards and hit the water again. A snake slithered from the blue green grass.

Harry, instinctively cried out, ' _Wait!'_

The snakes thick body rose, it's beady eyes and graceful snout glittering like oil.

Harry shivered violently and said through chattering, ' _Don't try to eat me, please_.' He wasn't sure if he was speaking parseltongue, but the snake seemed amused.

The snake dipped its head down and hissed, ' _Ssent to retreive, not to sssnack._ '

Harry's heart beat nervously as it usually did when talking to large and dangerous looking snakes. He stood slowly up, and tried not to fall. ' _What are you retrieving? Aren't you too c-c-old to be moving around?_ '

The snake sliding around to Harry said in a dismissive manner, ' _Manling sstill weak, musst hurry._ '

Harry asked, ' _To where_?' He pleaded then in resignation he asked, ' _Where am I?_ '

The snake picked up it's head and coiled around itself like it was crossing its arms. It looked at Harry and the tongue flicked in and out of its mouth several times before it said, ' _Giftss for knowledge firsst; if manling will not lisssten, if manling cannot sssee, musst cossst_.'

Harry stood on the bank of a muddy river and focused on the thickly coiled snake. The fog around them had lifted somewhat, and stars against a velvet lilac sky above the spider fingers of pines shone coldly.

Harry said, ' _I have nothing_.'

The snake flicked it's tongue out and uncoiled itself. It was a snake, and right now Harry couldn't guess as to it's reaction. Harry watched it as it pushed it's body through the grass near a trail. He watched it move away for a breath or two before following it.

Harry watched the snake as it moved through the grass hypnotically, but he felt a sudden shift in air. The moon rose, and bathed the twilight clean.

The snake raised its head and wavered a bit as the first chill of night came over the grassy knoll. The snake hissed, ' _Sshe speaksss._ '

Harry looked at his breath and looked at the snake and said, ' _If you are too cold, my body heat isn't much, but I can carry you if you tell me where to go_.'

The snake turned to Harry and flicked out its tongue again and hissed with a pleased tone, ' _I accept- we are closse_.' The snake glided back towards Harry. Harry knelt down and held out his hand. The snake was cool to the touch and it effortlessly used Harry's arm for leverage to wrap its body around Harry's neck.

Harry shuddered for a moment, thinking that it was not a good idea to let a bloody big snake hang around one's neck, but the snake settled its weight comfortably and whispered, ' _Fasst now- she speaks._ '

Harry jogged forward, carefully, and not for the first time grateful that he could see. He spotted a strange castle, much less of a fortress than Hogwarts ahead- appearing like ruins. He almost missed it for what it was, because it's walls appeared to be hills rising from the trees, dense with foliage.

The snake directed Harry through the grounds, full of sweet smelling flowers and herbacious leaves. Swinging lanterns of glowing rocks, radiating moonlight and white fire grew from tree boughs that wound themselves into shapes like archways. He followed the pathway and eventually reached an opening in the ground that descended sharply.

Stone jutted from the inverted cliff facing the ocean. Waves crashed far below where the edifice of the castle grew from the land. A beam of Moonlight lit upon a smooth stone landing that the foam of the waves lapped at.

Pillars of roughly hewn rock made an open air pavilion that nine figures in robes with hoods kneeled on. Runes carved into the stone and filled with water reflected the light of the moon, seeming to flow around a woman who stood among the figures, bathed in moonlight. Her long hair cascaded around her, her arms looked like they were dripping blood.

The woman turned to him, her face unearthly, and spread her arms out.

Harry stood frozen on the stairs. She reminded him of his mother. He wanted to go to her embrace, but he felt a shudder deep in his bones. His scar lanced hot white pain through him, the many tendrils lightning lacing pain through his skull. He cried out and pressed his hand to his forehead.

The snake said, ' _She callss- go to her.'_ Harry placed his hand on the snake, to lift it off his shoulders and grit out, "It hurts."

The snake urgently hissed, ' _She savess, manling- go to her._ '

Harry, head aching and throbbing at him to escape, looked at the luminous woman and the other figures who had turned to him.

He clenched his fist, and staggered down the stairs. His muddy bare feet padded across the damp stone surface as he approached the woman.

His scar was screaming in pain and fear- but he knew he must move forward, compelled to run away. He was nauseated, and weak from pain and knelt down before her.

She kneeled down before him and with bloody hands touched his face. He cried out in agony. Her words were soothing, but he understood nothing until she placed a motherly kiss upon his head. The pain receded and the tide from the ocean rose over the pavillion and washed over him.

 ***8***

Harry opened his eyes to the same room that he had woken up in before. He had a fresh change of clothes and bandages around where he had fallen yesterday and old curse wounds.

An open window, framed with wood that now he wasn't so sure was carved sat to his right, and in the direction where his feet lay, the wooden door was ajar. The sound of a trilling bird floated outside.

He saw everything in stark relief. The pain that had so blinded him last night was nothing more than a memory. He felt cleansed, lighter.

There was a sound like someone coming up the hallway and Harry collected himself. The woman that came through the door was not the same woman he had met yesterday.

She looked impish, and smiled mischievously as she walked straight to the window sill. "The bird fears the snake. Still, he sings when you awaken. He is a brave little bird."

She reached out her hand to the window. The snake from yesterday levelled its head in through the window.

It flicked out its tongue and slithered onto the sill. Harry spoke to the snake, "Thank you for coming to get me yesterday." He was quite disoriented, and couldn't think of anything else to say- and it was clearly no use in asking questions because he wasn't understanding what little answers he was getting.

The woman, her hair in folded braids and her smile still bright said "Queen Morgana called. You came."

Harry shook his head, "Who is Morgana?"

The woman crossed her arms and looked at the snake sternly. The snake flicked it's tongue out and coiled around itself in a familiar pose. Harry drew his eyebrows together. The woman scoffed at the snake and said to Harry in a warning tone, "Snake is clever. Hungry?"

Harry looked at the snake. It was quiet and settled it's coils. Harry asked it, "Do you want me to carry you again?"

The snake was silent and the woman cocked her head at him curiously. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked from the snake back to him.

"Erm- it doesn't seem that I can talk with snakes anymore."

The woman giggled and said, "Come now, breakfast before magic." She went to leave the room.

Harry held out his hand to the snake and it slithered into it's comfortable place along the warmth of his neck. The woman was waiting for them just past the doorway.

Harry asked, "Er- I'm… Harry."

She turned and said, "I am Ceridwyn. An acolyte to Morgana- ah Morgan le Fay is our Queen. You are on the Isle of Mists- Avalon I think you may know it as. Or Apples? Her realm."

"What?" Harry paused as they reached a winding tower staircase. He couldn't quite understand her name or what she was telling him. "Apples? Morgan?"

She leaned back to look at him from the stairs below. "Yes. Do you not know?"

Harry seemed to remember the chocolate frog card with Morgan le Fay. Ron let him have her card on their first train ride together. Harry shook his head, to shake away the grief seeping up with old memories.

"Drysi said you were not polite to her yesterday and she was quite upset- she is not in a good mood and will not be happy with you. I would give her berries so she is nicer to you in your training."

They arrived into a kitchen with huge wheels of cheese and large jars and baskets.

Ceridwyn began to gather things and she pointed to the door, "Go through there. I will fetch more things."

Furrowing his brows recalled Morgan Le Fay was supposedly a dark witch of the middle ages, and had a connection with Merlin but he wasn't sure what it was. Harry paused, trying to process all this new information before he entered the next door.

It didn't feel like a Dark Wizards castle, and he had spent quite a few months in the Black family house and longer than he ever wanted in the Malfoy manor. He turned to Ceridwyn, unsure how to say her name, "Erm- excuse me… Cer-...Where is my wand?"

She looked at him and shrugged, "You have need of a new wand, Morgana went to sing it from the Hawthorne this dawn."

Harry shook his head and crossed his arms and breathed in. Ceridwyn grabbed a pitcher and opened a window that looked to be made of vines. She beckoned upwards and water began to drip from leaves. She looked sympathetically at Harry.

"I promise. Breaking fast with us will explain many things. Morgana will have answers and you- I think you will stay here with us for a while, Harry."

Harry watched the water slowly stop dripping off leaves as the pitcher became full and wondered if he would ever understand.

* * *

Note: In the book's Hermione's torture scene was literally a chandelier dropped on her- she was all carved up with the glass and crystals. In the movie it was a knife. I blended here because the fact is I really don't think that in a world where there's crazy shit like disemboweling spells that a wee carving or wizard chandelier happenstantially dropping is a real whole picture.

Same with the mythos of Morgan le Fay and Merlin. Which I explained in the prologue that I am exploiting the hell out of. I will have other historical figures stopping by.

Also, lads- I am really appreciative of all of you following, and I would love to personally hunt you down through a pm and thank you for showing enough care to follow me updates.


	11. 1: I : 10 : Gambit

**Act I: Childhood**

 _:._ _Many will call me an adventurer - and that I am, only one of a different sort: one of those who risks his skin to prove his platitudes_ _._ _:_ Che Guevara

In which hubris is revealed

in a risk that

the game changer

didn't take.

 _Chapter 10: Gambit_

* * *

Nightmares woke Hermione in the small hours of morning. Crookshanks stared at her while she lay staring at her curtains until she could breathe normally again. Hermione dressed silently, packed her bag and slipped out the portrait hole- moving it as quietly as she could to not disturb the Fat Lady. Crookshanks trotted behind her. When she stood in front of the Room of Requirement, she hesitated.

Hermione promised herself that she'd go looking for the diadem- but now _after_ she gained control of her magic. She would not be able to perform spells without becoming exhausted- if she could perform them at all. She looked at her wand and decided that she would have be careful with how she spent her time and where she spent it, but first she needed to test what was wrong _exactly_ with her magic.

Hermione paced, and Requested that the Room furnish her a space to practice her magic, undisturbed, in comfort, with books that would help her. A door, just her size, shimmered into view. Relieved, she and Crookshanks slipped inside.

Setting down her heavy bag, she immediately felt comfort wash over her. It was a composite of her favorite library corners in Hogwarts and the familiar muggle library that she had visited with Lily, which she had found useful and conducive to focus. In the book lined nook there was a writing desk, with bookshelf space above it, as well as a chair and table. However, the comfortable reading chair by the fire resembled the common room, and the tea table had odd and familiar implements on the lower shelf.

The nook extended out into a larger area with two tables. A long potions table, with some basic ingredients that looked like they were labelled in different hands, sat on the far corner away from the window. The other table, she observed as she walked over, had runes carved into it and was adorned with implements she wasn't sure the use of- she tapped her chin. She felt that spending a little time looking at the runes would jog her memory.

She nearly teared up when she saw there was a row of Occlumency books and one promising looking tome called ' _Will of the Wandless'_ above the reading desk.

She couldn't take the books out of the room, however. She had tested it warily. The properties of the room were still largely a mystery and it seemed that the books there could only be called a few at a time and were usable past the rooms creationary boundary.

For the rest of the morning she dug into good comforting research, Crookshanks purring on her lap.

* * *

She had just come down to grab a small bit of breakfast and met up with other first year Gryffindors, "Where were you Hermione? We were worried!" Lily cried.

"Just reading. Are you excited for Herbology?" She directed the conversation easily as she walked them out onto the dewy grounds.

Herbology class with Professor Sprout was largely uneventful. She was paired with Alice, who was a good partner. They were cheerily entertained by Maisy and a Hufflepuff boy named Wallace Whitby, whom were in some kind of competition with one another. Sirius and James were at the far end and were unable to egg them on- so the class remained uneventful and focused.

The break after Herbology, Lily came up to her. She waved away Marlene and Darla and they diverted off with Maisy to meet some other Hufflepuff girls.

"I wrote a letter to Mummy and Da about our house, you know." Lily said as they slowed.

"I didn't tell them you were having problems with magic." She said as if offering a candy.

Hermione shuffled her feet, "Thank you."

Lily said, "I am going to have lunch with Severus today, do you want to come?"

Hermione said, grasping Lily's hand, "I do, but I am just trying to figure out my magic right now, and I don't want to have you spend your time on it."

Lily said disappointed, "Oh, yes- I see." She brightened, "Can I help you? I mean, I helped you do magic before? I can share my magic with you like we practiced?"

Hermione bit her lip and shook her head, and let go of Lily's hand, "I don't think that will work this time, Lily."

Lily furrowed her brows and kicked her toes down in the grass. "I suppose not. You'll eventually have to do it alone- hmm. Well, I'll help you with your other homework then so you don't fall behind."

Hermione smiled, and said "Honestly, I won't fall behind. We have plenty of free time as it is."

Lily shrugged, "Alright then- I'll let you read, but I'm telling Severus that you're ditching us." They started walking up to the castle again.

Hermione snorted, "I highly doubt that Severus will care. How did you make lunch plans with him? You two didn't seem too chatty during potions."

She smiled and said, "He sent me a note to meet him out in the hall after you went to bed early, and then had a go at me for showing up because it could have been a trap. Told me to meet him at a tree over there ten minutes after last class." She rolled her eyes and laughed.

Hermione thought for a moment, and thoughtfully said, "I think he may be right though, Lily. It's best to be on guard. Especially with notes asking you to come alone to places."

Lily gaped, "I can't believe you! You're both paranoid."

Hermione pursed her lips, "It's just a precaution. There's better ways of communicating directly with one another. You should figure out a charm- erm or at least a better way that does so."

Lily scoffed, "Sev doesn't think highly of charms."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You should show him he's wrong then."

* * *

She decided she would be seen quite often in the library, to not give away her other room, so took her gap period there. She walked the familiar pathway from the library to Defense Against the Dark Arts, skipping the sinking step and avoiding the third floor staircases.

Defense class was with the traditional new Professor. The Professor had been introduced during dinner, but Hermione hadn't been entirely cognizant.

The new Professor smiled brightly, looking quite bold. She wore a large, red and black robe in bold zig-zag stripes. Her long plaited hair had small glittering beads that made small tinkling sounds when she moved.

Hermione went to sit next to the Gryffindor girls, who smiled and waved her to a seat that they saved for her. She felt warmed by their enthusiasm. Lily jumped up and patted her arm before marching up to the Professor. Confused, she set down her book bag as she watched her twin speak in a hurried undertone. The Professor had to lean down, but shot a glance at Hermione before looking back to Lily and nodding with a small smile.

Lily turned around and made it to her seat before the Professor began class. Hermione looked at Lily, suspicion written in her curiosity.

The Professor looked around and sighed, "Class is starting now, but it appears we are missing a few students." She had a slight French lilt to her proper accent.

Hermione glanced around.

It was true, Lupin, Potter, and Black were nowhere to be found.

Professor Mahalia Jean began with a brief introduction and explanation that she may be leaving early in the year, but to not worry because she would be preparing everyone for their exams very well. She began with the basic principles of self-defense. The importance of knowing and to understand the various kinds of dangers present in magic and magical creatures. She lectured that many dangers were laid purposefully, defensively, and incidentally as broad categories for understanding frameworks of 'active' or 'offensive' magic.

She then set out classroom expectations and had the students take out their books and look at the headings before writing on the board :

THREE SENSES FOR SAFETY:

1- Feel it? Don't touch it.

2-Listen to it? Don't hear it.

3- Believing but not seeing? Do not watch it.

She turned after she was done writing and told the class in a grave and serious tone, her golden brown eyes light with intensity, "My primary purpose is to keep you safe. This- this you will memorise because your life depends on it."

Lupin, Potter, and Black burst through the door.

The entire class turned to stare. James said, "Oh, Professor- you're quite early, aren't you?"

Titters broke out in waves. The Professor crossed her arms, "I would have forgiven such an indiscretion as to arriving so late on your first day in your first year with a _sincere_ apology."

Lupin meeped, "So terribly sorry, Professor, Ma'm. I got lost! They said they knew the way!"

Remus looked pale and nervous. Sirius tossed his hair back as he stepped in front of James and Remus,"In sincerest apologies Professor," He gave small bow reminiscent of his Uncle Alphard. "I led this lost boy astray."

The Professor raised a single eyebrow in warning. James huffed, "The stairs bloody _move_ you know." Darla covered her mouth and looked at Marlene who had her mouth open in a giant smile.

Professor Jean stated, "See me after class and take your seats."

Remus said, "Th-thank you Professor,"

James, Sirius and Remus took their seats next to Peter who looked wide eyed at them.

"Now, back to our _rules_ \- of which I do hope that such incidents as being ignorant to them will not cause your untimely end. I will give you all some time to write and memorise these."

James said innocuously, "Professor?"

Lily looked aghast, and swished her head and all her hair to look at Hermione and back at James. She hissed at him across three rows- "Professor _Jean_!" The Professor put her arms on her hips.

He leaned forward and said back to Lily, "Professor _Jean_? I have a question."

The Professor said lightly, "I do hope it is a good question, my pupil."

James said, "If these are so important, why does the school subject us to the Sorting Hat? It violates two rules."

The Professor paused for a moment, and looked at him carefully. She said, "That- is a good question. It is because we know who created the object. We know for what purpose it is used for. It's purpose is clear and it is limited in both its ability to communicate and it possession of knowledge."

Peter leaned in and whispered to James, "What about portraits?" James crossed his arms he said with a smirk, "What about portraits?"

Professor Jean frowned a little, and said, "I believe that these are things that are limited and well established."

James said, "Pettigrew here didn't know that they were well established."

Peter, who had avoided any scrutiny from the class at this point, blushed scarlet and hid his hands under the desk.

The Professor drew a sharp breath inward. "There are many things inconsistent in the world of magic, but they are dangerous if treated consistently. The portraits break _one_ rule, and as it is a school of which that has prepared the tutelage of the witches and wizards of magical britain for near a thousand years- I would expect that the items here are not of immediate danger to students. Now-"

She looked around the class warningly, "-if there are no more questions?" It was clear that she wished to move on. She finished the class with other rules for safety in wand handling and Hermione thought to ask the Professor if there were such things as wand curses. Remus, James, Peter and Sirius remained after class, however, and she didn't wish to be there for the Professors second lecture.

Lily waved bye to Hermione, and darted off to meet Severus before Hermione could confront her about what she had told Professor Jean. Hermione excused herself from a disappointed looking Marlene who wanted very badly to discuss what Black, Potter, and Lupin had done.

She plopped her bag of mostly useless books down on the floor of the Room of Requirement. It had grown a little in recreational space- adding a dummy and some odd and ends that looked like items that Crookshanks may have dragged under the couch at home.

She glared at the library books as she selected one. McCoombe had waxed self righteously that it was right for a witch or wizard snapped of their wand to not wish to improve themselves in wandless magic, because they were nearly squibs due to their incompetency. Criminals it seemed, were 'rightly' denied any sense of self and did not warrant a paragraph. She set her wand down smartly, as if she were turning her nose up at McCoombe.

' _Will of the Wandless_ ' was much more intriguing. Many of the accounts therein were not actually about wizards, they were of centaurs, house elves, goblins and other fae folk. It introduced the small spells that wizards may use everyday like 'cantrips', essentially spells that were so natural to cast they needn't use a wand. The epilogue was much more speculative, even referring to old ancient druidic practices- though the tone was odd, as if they were muttering out the corner of their mouth.

She had made a list of thread references and set it in the drawer; along with her journal, advanced planner, and the book that she had picked up in Diagon Alley all those months ago. Much of it was moot. Until she fixed her magic.

She readied herself mentally and walked over to her small arena. She set her eyes on what looked like a Christmas bauble and breathed in and out. Remembering to visualise _perfectly_ and the emotional recall she had worked so hard on with Lily.

The bauble swung into the air and shattered.

Hermione startled back. A few more baubles formed from the jeweled wreckage. Hermione set her jaw and tried again.

* * *

Exhausted and with that familiar headache, Hermione stumbled out of the Room of Requirement, knowing that she would need a nap before Astronomy at midnight.

Nearly to the Gryffindor tower, Professor Lugaid came up behind her, "Miss Hermione Evans, are you quite alright?"

Hermione had turned quite suddenly at the sound of his footsteps approaching, and later she thought she had probably looked quite wild reeling around.

Professor Lugaids face went from concern, to that 'adult-expression.'

Hermione paused for a moment, gathering her book bag and standing up straighter. "Yes, Professor Lugaid." She attempted a smile.

He didn't look to buy it. "Miss Evans, if you had time, I was wondering if we may have a small discussion in my office? You're not in trouble, I wanted to check in and see how you were doing."

Hermione blanched. She looked towards the portrait of the Fat Lady sorrowfully. Professor Lugaid followed her gaze and said gently, "If you're not feeling well, just know that I am trying to help you. I know a little of what you are going through, and would like to offer an ear or a hand."

His thick blonde hair was tidy, his teacher robes quite dull in comparison to when he appeared very muggle-like in their home. The only teacher that had pulled her- Hermione Granger, aside in genuine concern had been Professor McGonagall on rare occasion. She considered not trusting him.

Hermione looked at his broad face, a little rough to be considered handsome if he wasn't smiling. He gave that same minute head tilt that knocked her decision into place. She would trust him enough to listen, for now.

* * *

She sat across from Professor Lugaid in his office. It was sparsely furnished, small but comfortable. He had a work table behind his writing desk with a small round television set, complete with antenna and manual. He also had a radio which looked to be taken apart.

While starting peppermint tea he asked her some casual questions, inquiring about her parents reactions to her house, and how she was finding Hogwarts.

He sat down behind his desk and folded his hands, "I will be honest with you Miss Evans," he leaned forward, "The reason I called you in is because I have heard from other Professors that you are having difficulty with magic."

Hermione couldn't suppress the shame creep up and said, "Yes," quietly.

Lugaid sighed. "It's alright. Many students have this issue, especially those who have transferred- like you have."

Hermione shifted and cocked her head. "I don't understand. Other ...students have been having difficulty with magic?"

"There have been others over the years," he said smoothly, "It takes time for magic to manifest in some." He held out his hands near defensively, "Even purebloods have this problem at times. It really depends on the student."

"I see." Hermione took a sip of her tea, re-thinking her earlier decision. While she may have thought to use him for access to the restricted section in the library and perhaps some permission regarding Occlumency, Professor Lugaid was showing an awful lot of interest in her magic and how it was developing. She didn't know if she could work like she wanted to on her own if she reached out to him with her goals.

She set her cup down.

"Well, thank you for your concern. I do appreciate it. I will try to do better. I look forward to having you as my teacher in third year." She prepared to leave.

Lugaid raised an eyebrow, "You mean fifth year?"

Hermione blinked, "Fifth year?" she asked with a note of incredulity.

Lugaid nodded, "I have been trying to get it lowered to at least an option offered with other electives in third year- as you may have heard."

Hermione said cautiously, "It hasn't gone through yet?"

Lugaid ran his thumb over his chin, "Headmaster Dumbledore is... reluctant to fight the Board of Education on it right now. It's considered quite dangerous."

Hermione shook her head, "What danger?"

Professor Lugaid folded his hands in front of himself and shrugged, but then raised a finger and said "Ah," as Hermione shouldered her bag. "I thought I could help you figure out what part of magic you were having a problem with," he said.

There was a moment of pause. He also offered gently, "It would also avoid you having to take remedial lessons in the Theory of Magic Classes."

Hermione scoffed, "Waffling isn't much help." He was probably one of the most aptly named authors for their book titles- 'Magical Theory' was certainly all encompassing, but it was terribly precise for many basic ideas and offered little to no relevant insight to how things _felt_.

Lugaid smiled knowingly, "I'd like to think I am a bit more helpful than ol'Waffling- I do have access to other books and some experience in these matters."

She looked away and said, "I'll take the remedial classes if they are needed." She stood up, "Thank you for the tea."

Lugaid came around his desk, sighing. He bent down to her height and looked into her eyes, "I am truly trying to help you. Please know that you have an ally in me." His eyebrows were drawn together in earnest concern. He seemed so sincere. She looked away, and backed towards the door.

He leaned back on his desk and crossed his arms. "Take care, Miss Evans- and remember my office door is always open to you."

Hermione muttered, "Thank you," and nearly ran into Albus Dumbledore. He was cradling what looked like a handful of beans.

"Ah!" Headmaster Dumbledore looked a little more mad than the twinkly, wizened wizard she was familiar with. He still had a bit of auburn running through his hair and beard, but just the same amount of color in his robes.

"Erm, excuse me Professor Dumbledore."

"No-no, excuse me. I was coming to converse with Professor Lugaid here, but I have stumbled upon a much more important conversation. You look quite young to be his student Miss…?" He peered at her over his half-moon shaped glasses.

"Evans," spilled out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Dumbledore made an expression as if he had remembered something, "Ah yes, Miss. Hermione Evans- you had quite the hat stall you know, so extraordinary to have two in one Sorting."

He looked at her with a small smile, "Terribly interesting times we live in."

Hermione was still. This powerful wizard, responsible for so many decisions she took issue with, looked benignly into her and ate a bean.

Professor Lugaid had come up behind her, "Ah, Headmaster. Just checking in on a bit of-ah, an 'adjustment' period."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and popped another bean into his mouth. He proffered his hand out to Hermione with a single bean and said, "Oh dear, I do hope it's not very serious."

Hermione grit her teeth, curtaining her hair to avoid seeing the single bean in Dumbledore's hand.

"Headmaster, I am glad you're here, truth be told. I was just explaining that Miss. Evans- you should step inside here." Lugaid opened the door and ushered them inside.

Hermione, now trapped, stood between the Professors.

Professor Lugaid went on, "Miss Evans-a very bright girl- I was just discussing her potential options with remedial classes in Magical Theory. I have offered myself as a tutor for her to avoid this rather dismal prospect."

Dumbledore, "Hmm,"-ed, "I see"-ed, and popped another candy in his mouth and then offered another to Hermione.

"What do you think Miss Evans?" He said not un-gently.

Hermione looked at the bean, perhaps for a bit too long because Dumbledore said in a more gentle tone, "There are all shapes of magic, some take longer to grow theirs, but it runs through us all in much the same way."

He held up the bean between two fingers, looking at it fondly, "What we choose to grow into is far more important. Why, even in the most greatest of magics, may be the simplest of strains." He released what looked like a coffee bean and it rolled back into the palm of his hand. He held it back out to her.

Hermione looked up at him and remembered why she had pledged such loyalty and faith in this man at one point. She took the bean.

Dumbledore smiled a little and with a searching gaze swept over her face momentarily. He looked troubled for a second, and turned away to where a portrait nail and outline had been. "I must remember to tell Filch about the portrait on the second floor corridor..."

Dumbledore turned back, and said, "I am sure you won't need any additional assistance,- but if you do, Professor Lugaid will be here. Now, we must chat about less sure matters, Miss Evans."

She recognised a dismissal when she heard one. She decided to flee while she still had time to catch up on sleep. She was too tired to think on the odd tense way that Lugaid was standing, and the overly light hearted depiction on the chat. But she would dwell upon it later, climbing the stairs to the Astronomy tower eating her coffee bean covered chocolate.

* * *

Hermione could not return to sleep after Astronomy class, despite its subdued nature. A Professor in a hooded robe, with pale hands and a velvety smooth voice had created a quiet and focused class.

She crept down the stairs, intending to read until she could slip away into the Room of Requirement. She went around the side of the armchair and jumped back at the sight of a boy sunken into the cushions.

A split second later she recognised that it was Sirius, glaring up at her. His eyes were tight, faintly red, like he had been glaring into the fire before her.

She put her hand with a book over her heart. "Sirius Black, you frightened me."

"'S not my fault you're creepin' around."

Hermione huffed and plopped on the other armchair, "Creeping? I am reading, thank you very much."

Sirius looked disgusted, "Reading? You're a barmy..." he stopped abruptly and shot a look at her.

Hermione pursed her lips, "Can't you sleep?"

Sirius scoffed and crossed his arms, "Obviously."

Hermione paused, and cracked open her book cautiously. Sirius brushed his hair over his face and turned to look into the fire.

She thought on what to say. If it was Harry in this situation she'd never need to- just by asking what was wrong he'd either hide it and badly, or he'd stumble around trying to figure out what he was feeling. Ron was another matter entirely- he was either upset or not, sad and mad blended together for him.

Sirius didn't say anything. She looked at him, only twelve and brooding into the fire. She said gently, "If you want to, you can tell me. I promise I won't say anything to anyone."

Sirius turned his head slightly.

She proceeded to read, there was a few minutes that past before Sirius said, "My...brother…"

She looked up. Sirius sighed and covered his eyes, "It's… my family." She watched as he struggled.

"They're not happy that I was Sorted into Gryffindor. They're... taking it out on him. He sent me a letter asking me why I've done it- telling me he won't speak to me anymore." His voice was rough.

Hermione felt for him,"I- can't imagine, Sirius, I-"

"No you can't, can you?"

Hermione opened her mouth reflexively, a little confused at his spiteful tone.

"Don't. Say sorry. I hate that- but they know- everyone _knows_ I am not really supposed to be here."

A voice from the stairs said, "That's not true." They both leaned to look beyond the wings of their armchairs. A gangly Remus Lupin stood in pyjamas and slippers, looking pale but resolute. He near marched over to Sirius and grabbed him by his lapels.

"You have every right to be here, more-so than me. You're not-" He said in a halting voice, "...you're not afraid."

Sirius stood and yanked Remus' hands off, "You're wrong-!"

There was a tense sheepish moment before Sirius muttered, "'m goin' to bed." And stormed up the stairs.

Remus looked at Hermione pleadingly, "He wouldn't tell us."

Hermione looked up at the landing of the first year boys chamber, "Give him time. He's… well, he hasn't had time to understand things for himself first. He's on his own now, too."

Lupin's face clouded. Hermione looked away to the fire and ignored the pangs in her stomach.

* * *

Wednesday's were scheduled to be a later start after the midnight Astronomy class. Hermione had nested in one of the sunny Astronomy tower side rooms with large windows that would be used for snowy days or written tests after lunch. The door banged open.

Her wand was drawn and seconds later so was Severus', Lily behind him.

"You're quite jumpy." Severus said.

"You're one to talk," Hermione and Lily said at the time time.

Severus shuddered, "I hate it when you do that."

After scattered laughter Hermione asked why they came hunting for her.

Severus said, "You're going to be late for flying lessons."

Hermione's mouth gaped. She scrambled to pack her books, Crookshanks yeowling in protest.

Lily said as they raced down the stairwell, "It's not like you to forget or to be late."

Severus snarked, "But reading and forgetting the time is."

Lily added breathlessly, "By windows, I mean, really,"

Hermione said, regretting that she couldn't cast the featherlight spell on her bag yanking into her shoulder, "Yes, I said I would find a window to read under after lunch-"

Lily accusingly said, "Of which you ate almost nothing,"

Hermione grunted, "It's still very impressive you found me."

Severus scoffed, while Lily said, "You know we split up in teams to find you."

Hermione said, "What?" a split second before she was slammed into, papers and books flying out of her bag, the air knocked out of her, nausea wrenching in her gut. Then, before she knew which way was up, knew she was whizzing along in the air.

Lily was shrieking, her voice getting fainter, "Potter- we said _find_ her!"

Hermione held back the hair from her face to see, but fear dictated she latch onto the broom and onto the lunatic that had snatched her. She glared at the laughing boy with the windswept hair.

She said letting all the anger and fear channel into the severity of her voice, "James Potter you _put_ me **down**."

Potter, who was racing her over to the Quidditch practice ring the first years had their required flying lessons, didn't take her seriously at all. He was thicker than a _giant_.

"Look Evans, I said that I would find and get you to the class first."

Hermione sputtered, "You didn't _find-"_

Black was shouting, "CHEATER! You bloody CHEAT!"

Potter roared, grinning, "If it is not in the RULES, it's not CHEATING, it's being CREATIVE."

Hermione was clearly going to be released in a few seconds, and there was nothing she could do to save herself except for keep a death grip on Potter.

She wondered how he even got a broom already.

She heard gasps and other students not quite whispering. Mary MacDonald, a Ravenclaw first year nearly cried out, "Potter, is that a Nimbus 1500?"

Potter made a descending pivot that made Hermione's stomach lurch, "Why MacDonald, I never knew that of the MacDonalds you would have the finest eye. Your brothers are shite players."

Mary smirked, "They are, aren't they?"

Maisy looked aghast at her friend. "You-"

Mary looked affronted, "They are though!"

Maisy shook her head, "No- you like _Quidditch_?"

Hermiones feet touched the ground and she went limp, Potter said, "Evans, don't collapse on me." He stood halfway on his broom and tilted it so he could keep a hand on her arm, holding her upright as he dismounted.

Black, Lupin, Ada, Alice, Longbottom and Pettigrew were running along the green in scattered pairs. Sirius was holding a broom like a jousting stick.

Off in the distance behind them, Lily and Severus could be made out hurrying along carrying Hermione's bags and books.

The class, all first years, were taking turns admiring Potter's broom and his flying skills. Some of the Slytherin students, Burke, Avery, and Greengrass as well as Yaxley and Carrow also had brooms in hand, and had come over to inspect Potter's broom.

Hermione felt ill, and not at all in the mood to berate Potter. It was too tiring. She already was sweating and tense from thinking about having to ride on a broomstick again.

While she stood there, Ada came up to her and put a soothing hand on her forehead, "Hermione, you don't look so well."

Hermione just gave a small smile and tried to reassure her that she would be alright.

Lily and Severus arrived just as an older gentleman boomed out, "Greetings little flyers, assemble in two straight lines." It sounded as if he was right in front of Hermione, but he was quite distant, near the archways.

"No time for dawdling, hop to it!" He was dressed in trim flying robes, had a sharp flat laying mustache and was moving his gloved hands quite strangely.

Hermione was assisted by both Lily and Ada to shuffle in between them. Severus had tossed her bag near the wall.

Lily was muttering, "I can't believe that Potter boy, having the nerve to grab you and fly off like that- I doubt that flying brooms in the hallways are allowed."

Ada said, "I don't think it's allowed on the grounds. In Hogwarts a History they banned indoor use of brooms, I think, once Cleansweep and Comet developed faster brooms in competition."

The class lined up and the gentleman surveyed his class, still in a booming voice with his mouth and hands moving erratically he said, "Alright, now those of you who brought your own brooms, raise your broom up if you have got something faster than a Silver Arrow- for inspection!"

Most of the boys that had brought their own raised their brooms and looked around appraisingly. Marlene McKinnon and Mary MacDonald grinned fiercely at each other.

The gentleman said, "Right, you lot line up over there," and he made a rounding motion with one hand and pointed.

He said, "I am Ivan Kamau, you may address me as Sir, or Sir Ivan. I want you," he pointed and then made a series of many other gestures, "when you receive your assigned broom, to address your broom as you would address me, with respect and no namby-pamby-wibbily-wobbily nonsense." He put his hand in his fist, "Be firm, mean what you say."

Hagrid was seen coming over from the brooms closet near the Quidditch pitch with two large cases.

Sir Ivan went on to address certain rules and other flying expectations. He asked for a volunteer from those with their own brooms and selected Greengrass to demonstrate proper call and mounting techniques. He asked for a repeat volunteer and sharply gestured Potter to the front.

Potter, shooting a smirk towards Sirius next to him, slid his broom forward. While it was hovering just so- he stepped forward with one foot on the seating dip and the other on the brushtail then rode it, standing, to about hip height.

Sir Ivan very quickly stepped forward, knocked the broom handle upwards, drew his wand and Potter was grounded with a look of pure shock on his face.

"That was a most excellent demonstration of how not to mount your broom, you are awarded a detention with me after classes this evening."

There were ripples of unease in the students and Hagrid arrived just in time to say "Ho- there, what happened? Is he alrigh'?"

Sir Ivan stuck his hand out to Potter. Glowering, with pink around his ears, Potter accepted the hand up. Titters and giggles scattered through the first years. Hermione glanced at Severus who was brimming with glee and schadenfreude 1.

Hagrid hung around to open the boxes of brooms, and Sir Ivan set the group with their own broomsticks to task with holding the mount crouch.

The other students lined up for the brooms but Ivan held up a fist, "Alright, those of you who have never ridden a broom over there with the Comets, those of you who have get a CleanSweep," he swept his arms and fingers.

Hermione fell behind Lily and was happy to get to see Hagrid again. When Lily was handed a broom she seemed very excited and shot a pleased look at Hermione. Hermione swallowed and held out her hands to Hagrid.

"It's nice to see you again Hagrid,"

"Ah, lil' Miss Hermione Evans-" Hagrid bent down to smile at her, a broomstick between two forefingers and his giant thumb.

His bushy eyebrows drew together in concern, "Miss Evanses, you migh' not be feelin' very well- you look migh' drained!"

"I am fine Hagrid, thanks- just, flying isn't my cup of tea." Hermione muttered.

"Saw tha' I did, that Potter boy is good flyer though!" Hagrid beamed, and handed her the broom.

Hermione, in position with the rest of the class, had her broom on the ground. She stared at it balefully as her head swam and her stomach protested. She wiped her hands on her robes.

"Now, call it!" Sir Ivan boomed.

Hermione stuck her hand out, visualised, felt, and then suddenly the broom was in her hand, gently. She gaped. She hadn't needed to say anything. She had not been able to get on the broom for the better part of the semester when she first tried, and with her luck regarding magic right now, she was thrown off.

She dropped her broom.

Lily was imitating their mother, and got the broom to lift up. She grinned over at Hermione and her face fell when she saw no broom in her sisters hand.

Sir Ivan suddenly appeared next to her. "Miss Evans, please demonstrate once more what you just did... please."

Hermione, hand shaking, put her hand out above her broom. She timed her croak of, " _Up,"_ with her execution of visualisation.

She looked up at Sir Ivan who looked a little disappointed and said without moving his mouth, "That's not what I meant, Miss Evans."

She dropped her broom again. She stared up at the older man with salt and pepper hair and serious eyebrows, who spoke without moving his stern mouth.

"I'm not feeling very well, Sir Ivan." She said suddenly.

He looked at her with clear eyes, gesturing Hagrid over, "Hagrid, take this little student up to the castle please."

She felt unnerved as she backed away and tore her gaze from his. Later, she fended off questions by blaming her illness on the shock of Potters flight. After double Potions she felt her headache dissipate, but her stomach pain lingered.

* * *

Through the next week, Hermione did not stop having nightmares. She slipped out of the dormitory while it was still dark, and read in the common room until it was excusable if she was caught walking down the hall to the Room of Requirement. In the wee hours of the morning, the castle was quiet, but not silent. The fires were stoked to provide some heat, the portraits snored, and she felt rather than heard the House Elves.

She felt an ache in her heart every time she thought of the House Elves, and so had been avoiding visiting them in the kitchens.

As a result, she was typically the first in the Great Hall for breakfast and many of the professors greeted her as they walked past while she was reading library books.

She brushed off Lily's inquisitions in front of the other girls and just said that she was, "-keeping up with reading. Do you want to look at my notes?"

During lunch period she would be careful to return to the library or to choose a new spot to study so that it would be difficult for people to locate her in the evenings. Then, she could sneak away to the Room of Requirement to practice, hone and manipulate her magic.

She would say, upon being asked, "I wasn't there today, I found a different window seat I liked."

As the days wore on, she was beginning to think it would be easier to get a note to the Restricted section than become friends with James Potter.

This was primarily because James was getting bored, and it manifested in all sorts of strange ways. Sirius, seemingly bent on breaking as many rules as he could get away with, set many of the challenges that Potter, being the overly confident and talented boy he was, wanted to meet.

The first had been figuring out the fastest ways to get to classes. James had attempted to ride his broom to class in order to avoid being late. Then, because he was nearly caught, insisted on finding clever ways to hide it. He even enlisted Finella McKinnon, Marlene's Ravenclaw elder cousin to cast a shrinking spell on the broom. Sirius couldn't figure it out for days.

'Magical Theory' was assigned for homework for the first week, and much of the beginning of term was about rules and regulations, writing skills and what the teachers wanted and expected. In practical classes, the boys bet on who could master the spell faster, who could think of more interesting things to do with the spell. Hermione was approached by Remus one night who sidled up to her innocuously, under the guide of a harmless homework question.

Hermione had looked over the drafted plan of a complex bit of Transfiguration. It was of a matchstick house, in which casting Reparifarge on needles would cause the return to matches mimic a rude gesture in the small friction fire. She shook her head, but approved it as largely safe.

The boys were a fuel to each other's fire. Remus usually was left with tutoring Peter, or re-explaining what the Professors had said to the small attention deficient group and was very good at appearing to be teachers pet. Professors were naturally inclined to like his soft spoken, gentle nature and he was very eager to prove himself.

Though, there was more than one occasion in which Remus performed perfectly to show the Professor, earning five points, and then went on to mischievously interrupt the progress of Black and Potter, usually resulting in a deduction of five points.

Frank usually was a good audience for Remus' good bit of fun- Lily wasn't. Lily grew more and more irritated with the boys, and Potter found it increasingly amusing to get a rise out of Lily.

For Hermione, Charms and Transfiguration was a bane. More so than the double Potions on Wednesday with Slytherin students, whom determined she make a good rival and target.

After or between classes, and on weekends, she tried to make time for Lily, but as Marlene, Darla and Alice noticed- she too, was often no-where to be found. She suspected Severus and Lily were studying somewhere privately. She was focusing on her magic and feeling that she may be improving.

Then, one dark morning, she met Remus in the Common Room.

He looked wan and pained. He startled when she came down the steps, Crookshanks rubbing his body around her ankles.

He said, "You really do get up this early. Don't you sleep?"

She said evasively, "I try. What about you? How are you feeling?"

Remus rose a sweating lip in an derisive expression, "Oh...Sick." He hung his head, "I am always some sort of sick, you see."

Crookshanks prowled over to Lupin and gave a chittering meow.

Lupins face softened and he held out his hand to the orange bottlebrush kneattin, "Sorry, Crookshanks- don't imagine I smell like myself."

Hermione felt like crying again and became frustrated with herself. Of course, tomorrow was the full moon. Remus was not feeling well and he was scared. His first change away from home.

Remus tentatively started to pet Crookshanks, as if he was risking a scratch.

Crookshanks still confused, was smelling him while his tail bristled.

Hermione berated herself that she completely let her own issues with magic take over all of her other important tasks. Remus was going to be on his own a few more moons, even if she managed to get into the greenhouses to find a mandrake leaf.

* * *

It was Herbology first thing Friday morning so it was relatively easy for Hermione to ask to go to the bathroom (which she had been needing to do embarrassingly more often) and go through the green house where Professor Sprout kept the Mandragora plants. She made sure to press one ear against her shoulder, and put the other finger in her other ear as she carefully clipped off a leaf. She ran before she had time to figure out if it was mature enough to pop it's head out of the soil and complain.

The boys were oddly quiet and focused in classes, scribbling away in Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Many class members passed messages in the hallways and seemed to be very focused and intent. Hermione dismissed it as odd, but hoped they had started taking classes seriously.

This was not the case.

James Potter had called for a war.

Hermione came into the Common Room before dinner that evening, intending to trade more books from her bag to the library.

Potter stood on a table with many of the first years holding brooms like spears. The second year Killian Andrews had his arms folded in resignation. Remus was sitting on an armchair with a hot cup of tea looking very out of sorts.

"Tonight, at midnight!" Potter rose his broomstick, "We will join forces!"

There was a cheer. Hermione blinked.

"Last one off their broom in their team wins for the final jousting round. Choose your second now, eh?" He folded his arms seriously with his broom between them, and looked down at the lads.

"Remember the rules- I've explained why we have them and there weren't any among the lot of you who had a problem with it- So, play fair- we're going up against mostly mixed teams. Let's go over our team's strategy once more." He said imperiously.

A broomstick jousting war- between all the first years.

Hermione was stock still. Killian Andrews saw her, and sighed heavily.

"Hullo. You've stumbled upon the War Council of Potter and his Flying Marauders. I must ask that you be sworn to secrecy and that you not betray the sacred trust of Fun and Mischief to relieve tedium and oppressive nature of-" Hermione put a hand up.

"Absolutely not. This is - _ridiculous_."

Andrews looked pained, "Yes, but he's blackmailing me you know!"

Hermione's expression was one of sheer disbelief and derisive dismissal. She waved him away and made straight away to Lupin.

"Are you alright?" She asked touching his arm.

Remus looked up from his tea mug and said, "They're going to war without me."

Hermione looked over at the windows, checking the sun and patted him on the arm, "C'mon, let's go. Let's go to the Hospital Wing, shall we?" Lupin frowned but nodded.

"How did he get everyone else out of here?" she wondered aloud as she dropped her bag and kicked it under the chair lupin had been sitting in.

Lupin said, "Dungbomb- then Peter said to just open the windows after people left."

Hermione went, "Huh," and guided Remus out of the portrait.

Andrews came up to her again saying, "Evans-"

She glared at him.

He took a step back and raised his hands, "D'you know what, never mind."

They ran into Professor McGonagall into the hallway. She looked relieved to see them.

"Thank you Miss Evans- I knew Mr. Lupin was unwell. I'll handle it from here."

Hermione waved bye to Remus who shyly waved back at her.

He walked, hunched in on himself, up the Hallway with Professor McGonagall.

Hermione sighed. She was very tired.

She felt leaden and heavy, drained and weak. The lack of sleep was starting to take a toll on her. She returned to the Common Room where it was moderately replenished with a variety of Gryffindors from different years.

She grabbed her bag, intending to trudge through that days homework, but someone had started a loud game of Snap, with the reigning champion, and Prefect, Jillian.

She retreated to the Room of Requirement, but this time, a bed appeared by the fire instead of the writing desk. A purple potion was next to the bedside. _Dreamless Sleep_ was labelled in Professor Slughorn's writing.

She sat on the bed and stared at the potion. She recognised that this wasn't a permanent solution, but she needed the sleep- wanted sleep. She looked out at the sunset, then remembered. She frantically dug around in her bag to find the leaf she wrapped up in parchment. She rested her head on the window until she could see the moon rise. She let the moonlight dapple on the leaf.

Tomorrow, she promised, as she uncorked the potion bottle, tomorrow, she would start to make a replacement bottle from wherever this was stolen from in the castle. Tomorrow, she would work on Occlumency to prevent her dreams from becoming worse.

She put the potion bottle down on the dresser. She went to pick up the leaf. She placed it on the roof of her mouth, then remembered a line from the notes of the Half-Blood Prince yet to be, and placed it under her tongue. She tried not to think, and lay down on the bed.

A few seconds later, she was asleep.

* * *

She went down for Saturday breakfast before anyone found out that she was missing. All four houses had lost points dramatically. Gossip was flying.

Lily huffed as she sat next to Hermione, "Potter was upset that he wasn't the best flyer, or something as equally stupid, _and_ that first years weren't allowed to try out for the Kiddich teams. So, he organised a war." Lily said.

Hermione said, not bothering to correct her pronunciation, "Yes, I know. I ran into his War counsel last night."

Lily shot her a suspicious look, then said, "Mr. Filch caught them," Her tone suggested she thought it was disappointingly just..

Hermione smiled as she took another piece of fruit and added it to her battered toast. "Midnight duels never go well you know," she said knowingly.

It was hard to miss twenty some odd students flying around in the middle of the night, shouting spells and flying in close quarters, even in hallways without portraits.

Lily looked at her sister and bit her lip, then smiled beautifically. "It is silly that they thought they would get away with it, right?"

Hermione shrugged, watching a group of first years pour into the Great Hall. "You have to admit- it was a brilliant idea for fostering inter-house unity."

Some were bruised and others looked properly shamed. Potter looked livid and was stomping towards the Evans girls.

Pettigrew and Black scurried after him. Potter growled out, "You."

Hermione, perfectly composed, popped a strawberry into her mouth, "Yes?"

Potter slammed his hand down on the table, "We were betrayed."

Hermione looked at his hand, checked to make sure the mandrake leaf was still rolled up in the top part of her mouth on the outside of her teeth and said, "That's a shame. Who do you think it was?"

"You!" Potter pointed past Lily to Hermione. Lily slapped his hand away and said, "Back off!"

The rest of the first years in Gryffindor reached the table.

Hermione said, "I would have told Professor McGonagall but one of our _friends_ was sick and I considered _him_ a priority."

Potter looked as if Hermione had physically pushed him.

Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall swept past the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. Dumbledore announced that there would be a ban on all first years possessing their own brooms.

Dumbledore twinkled his mad twinkle and said, "However, despite this necessary precaution, those who were the standing captains of Hogwarts students, and those who were victorious, united under one banner- they who showed valor, loyalty, ambition, and creativity, will be awarded... twenty points."

McGonagall tightened her mouth and shot a side eye look to Dumbledore before marching off.

Potter thunked down on the bench, crestfallen. "No broom."

A fearsome black and grey owl swooped down in front of Sirius.

Peter squawked, "Is that one of them Howlers?"

Sirius muttered, "No you daft muggle, it's obviously a newspaper and a package." After untying the newspaper he swatted Peter with it.

Potter flashed a look over at Sirius but then looked around and said, "Where's Remus?"

Hermione quietly said, holding her cup of tea, "I told you, I took him to the Infirmary."

Potter grumped, "It was that bad?"

Lily hissed, nearly bristling at Potters proximity, "Yesss- she said already!"

Potter mimed her in falsetto, " _Yessss Pottah_ -"

Lily sniped, "I wouldn't be so satisfied with myself if I just lost nearly fifty points for my house,"

Potter mimicked her, " _Lost fifty points_ ,"

Pettigrew said loyally, "He earned twenty back though, dinnit he?"

Marlene, who had apparently been there, said with a fierce look and a shiner decorating her eye, "No, that was _me_."

Darla looked impressed with her friend and said, "I would have traded sleep to see that. Next time, I'll go." She put another sweet roll on her plate.

Marlene looked at Darla incredulously, "There's not going to _be_ a next time."

Sirius was reading his letter with a pleased look on his face as he fed the owl a hefty bit of his sausage.

He glanced up at the girls across from him and said non-chalantly, "I don't give a newts tail about this paper- either of you Evanses want it?"

Lily looked confused, but pleased at the offer and said, "No, thank you," at the same time Hermione said, "Yes, please,"

Sirius had a spark of interest in his eye as he handed it over. Hermione just raised her eyebrows and took another sticky bun in a cloth before rising up and saying, "I'll be at the library."

Lily grabbed her hand, "On a Saturday?"

Hermione smiled, "Want to come with me? I may go visit Lupin, too."

Lily smiled. "Sure, I'll meet you at the Infirmary."

* * *

Hermione poked her head into the Hospital Wing and spotted Madame Pomfrey speaking to Professor Slughorn. She slipped into the Wing but the young Madame Nurse spotted her right away.

"Madame Pomfrey? Is Remus Lupin here?"

Pomfrey, smiled worriedly and said, "Ah, no dear, I am sorry."

Hermione blinked, "Really? Oh, well. Thank you."

Professor Slughorn recognized her and ambled over, "Ah, Miss Evans. Coming to check in on your friend?"

Hermione shuffled her feet, "Erm- yes but… he's not... here so- I'll just be going to the library then."

Madame Pomfrey gave a thin smile and Horace's mustache twitched and Hermione made her escape.

She ran into Lily on her way back down to the Gryffindor dorm. "He's not there Lily, is he perhaps back in the Common Room?"

Lily looked thoughtful, "He could be in the boys dorm?" She suggested.

Hermione tipped her head and shrugged.

Lupin wasn't found to be anywhere. Hermione studied with Lily in the Library for a little while before Severus started to lurk around the bookshelves.

Hermione pushed away from the desk and went around, pretending not to see him.

Severus, surreptitiously spying on Lily from behind some shelves, jumped when Hermione whispered, "Thought I told you spying on people is no way to make friends."

Severus turned to look at her, two great bruises under his eyes. Hermione gasped, "Severus!"

He held a book up in front of his face. Hermione smacked it away. "You need to go see Madame Pomfrey."

Severus glared at her.

Hermione whispered furiously, "I promise, she'll help. She won't ask questions either."

Severus jutted out his chin.

Hermione prodded him, "Go now, so you have the day left."

Severus hissed, "Don't boss me!" and yanked his arm away.

Hermione rolled her eyes, then asked, "Would you know how to go about practicing Occlumency?"

Severus gave her a look, then said roughly, "Yer needing a tutor for that mostly."

Hermione sighed, "I thought so."

Severus rubbed his arm, "I was looking into it to. It seems so... To shut bad parts of your thoughts away." He looked away and an ugly countenance overtook his face, "To know the bad parts of other people, too."

Hermione, disturbed, cautiously said, "It helps with discipline for your own mind, above all else."

Severus quietly bid her farewell and left the library.

Hermione watched the back end of his robes flick around the corner.

* * *

Later in the afternoon, while she was enjoying lunch alfresco with Lily, two men entered onto school grounds.

Lily pointed them out first, "That's strange, isn't it?"

One of them wore all white, while the other was wearing silver and deep violet that shone darkly in the dim sun. A third man appeared as well, accompanied by Hagrid.

Lily looked at Hermione, "Do you want to go see what's going on?"

Hermione brushed crumbs off her hands, "It couldn't hurt,"

Nervous and excited, Lily nibbled on her lip and got up, "Really?"

Hermione got up with her and said, "Let's go."

They jogged over to Hagrid who was saying a lot of "Hmm's" and "Mhmm's" to the nicely dressed man in a top hat.

Hermione waved, "Hagrid!"

Hagrid paused and beamed, "Why Misses Evaneses, lovely mornin',"

The well dressed man said sourly, "Really, it is well past _noon,"_

Hagrid looked sheepish and blushed through his beard, "Righ' well, d'yer need summat?"

The well dressed man spat, "No, good _day_ to you."

Hagrid slowed his pace. "Er-" He waited until the man had out paced them. With a hand up to his mouth he said as quiet as Hagrid could be, "Truth be told I was askin' you ladies."

Hermione and Lily giggled.

"Hagrid," Hermione started politely, "What is happening? Why are there visitors?"

Hagrid said, "Din't yer hear this mornin'?" He was surprised but with a gleam continued, "There was a great broom battle in Hogwarts last night and there's ought to be no more brooms for the firs' years."

Lily sniffed, "Yes, we know. Potter was behind it. Organising and ...battling and all that."

Hagrid raised his eyebrows, "Oh well- the board of governors' and an advocate is here to meet with Dumbledore about the new rule and see about summat else."

Hermione looked to Lily, "I wonder if it's the Muggle Studies initiative that Professor Lugaid is pushing through."

Hagrid began walking again, "Ah Miss Hermione, yer righ' about that- no wonder Black and Malfoy are here then."

Lily looked puzzled. Hermione's skin crawled, "Malfoy?"

* * *

Hermione and Lily made their way back to the Common Room. She gave her sister a pleading look with her bag.

Lily waved her off, "I know, I know," She left Lily with Marlene, who had taken it upon herself to impress the importance of Quidditch upon her sister and Darla.

Passing the second floor corridor to make her round-about way to the Room of Requirement, she heard a cold, dangerous voice from the entrance.

"Regardless, Dumbledore, you have my final word on the matter." A white cane thundered on the stone of the Great Hall. She pressed herself against a column with a low flying buttress and crouched down to peer around the gaps in the railing.

A man with long white hair, nearly invisible against his robes of varying shades of cream, stood in front of Dumbledore. The unpleasant man walking with Hagrid, and a woman she didn't recognise, were standing just on the edges of her vision.

"Lord Malfoy," A charming voice carried over as Alphard Black swept into view, "As always we appreciate your tolerance and patience. This is still a democracy, and a choice isn't a command."

"The true sons and daughters of Magic wouldn't need a choice, you black-heart."

Alphard put a hand on his chest and bowed deeply, "So shall they make the right choice then, Venerable Lord Malfoy."

Lord Malfoy seemed to menace for a moment before he glided away.

"That shall be my cue to leave as well, Headmaster, I do hope you haven't called a pox upon us. Sir Fawley shall accompany me out." The woman said as if she would like very much to wash her hands of this situation.

The irritable man she had met with Hagrid tipped his hat twice and extended his arm to the woman, and they went out.

Only Alphard remained of the visitors.

He looked to Dumbledore, sighing as the others left, "Oh I do not envy your position Headmaster."

Dumbledore moved his lips around thoughtfully, "Nor I yours, Lord Black,"

Alphard said, "Mine is a necessary evil, Headmaster, a necessary evil I think, but what would I have been without you?"

Dumbledore looked at Alphard and his eyes moved up, Hermione widened her eyes and fell backwards into another body. She yelped be a hand covered her mouth. She panicked and a force between her and her silencer ripped them apart.

A noise of surprise yanked out of her interloper and herself. She got to her knees and found herself looking at an equally surprised Sirius.

"Young nephew, is that you? You're quite early, I hope you haven't been eavesdropping."

Sirius groaned and sprang up. "I was dropping in on a eaves-dropper Uncle"

Hermione scrambled to her feet, and at a loss for what to say, looked back and forth before blurting out the question, "Does this mean you're offering Muggle Studies to third years?"

Dumbledore chuckled, "Ah-ha, yes, starting next year, I am afraid."

Alphard bowed to Dumbledore and said, "Thank you again Headmaster, for all that you do. Now, I should like to have my Nephew and perhaps his precocious friend escort me off the grounds?"

Albus beckoned them down, "Certainly. Far be it for me to deny familial bonding- our Key Keeper is nearby should the gates be closed to you."

Sirius Black glanced at Hermione Evans and with expressive eyebrows asked questions he couldn't verbalise. She swallowed and shrugged and they hurried down the stairs.

Dumbledore smiled at the children as they came down the steps. "Miss Hermione Evans, it is so pleasant to meet in such happenstantial events. Mr. Sirius Black, I trust your nighttime activities at Hogwarts will be more subdued in the future?"

Sirius tossed his hair back, "I certainly hope not Headmaster-" and then caught the look of both Hermione and his Uncle, "Erm- yes, Headmaster."

Albus stroked his beard, and fought down a smile. He gave a little head bow to Lord Black and the children and began to whistle as he walked.

Hermione shook her head,

Lord Alphard Black looked down at Hermione. He gathered his outer robe in one motion on one arm and held out his other to her in a courtly gesture.

"May I escort you across the grounds? My nephew here has seemed to have forgotten all the lessons of _society._ "

Sirius scoffed and clicked his heels together, and bent rigidly, and on the upswing held out his hand and arm to Hermione. He smirked at her then his Uncle, "I remember Uncle."

Hermione just squeezed her bag.

Alphard sighed, "Ah, all that money Walburga wasted on your fine society lessons- it's all just inherited charm I am afraid."

Sirius looked as if he couldn't decipher whether Alphard had just insulted him, his arm dipped a little from it's position.

Hermione gently took his arm.

Alphard leaned back and smoothed the line of hair along his cheekbone and under his lower lip smiling pleasantly at the two of them.

He said with congeniality, "Let's adjourn then. I have many other things to do and I should like to inquire about a fair few things before I depart."

Sirius, his arm still stiff and his face still faintly hurt, escorted a lightly pink Hermione, whom felt completely silly.

"Nephew, how did you enjoy my present to you?" Alphard had his hands behind his back as he led them out across the grounds.

"It's a mirror- I can only enjoy my own appearance so much despite contrary beliefs." Sirius answered.

Alphard gave out a bark of laughter and Sirius looked pleased. "No, you rascal," Alphard said fondly.

"You should talk to it a bit, possibly around your brothers bedtime." He gave a conspirative glance behind his back and raised an eyebrow.

Sirius's grey eyes lit up and with barely repressed excitement he looked at Hermione, "Alright,"

Alphard walked backwards briefly to look at Hermione, "Did you enjoy the paper today, Miss Hermione?"

Hermione felt a chill up her neck, and slipped her hand out of Sirius' arm a little. "I haven't - read it yet."

She looked questioningly at Sirius, who returned her look with a hint of superiority.

Alphard said with a finger in the air, "I once met a woman, about your height actually, who was quite enraged over a newspaper," he spun around, an overly exaggerated thoughtful expression, "Now, give me a moment, it was actually quite pure and I want to get the words right,"

Sirius looked as if his Uncle had gone mad, but Hermione could feel her heart suddenly in her throat again.

Alphard said reverently, "How dare they control people with fear and ignorance. It is despicable…to keep their children ignorant of the goings on- they do not inform people or provision them with the arms of tools for knowledge." He opened his silver eyes, so much like a wolf in that moment she almost felt his jaws snap.

Hermione was frozen, and Sirius was looking suspiciously at his Uncle and then at Hermione.

Alphard tapped his goatee and said, "It was quite a unique phrasing, I am sure of it."

Hermione faintly said, "Despicable?"

Alphard smiled a sharp smile- "Forgive the paraphrase," He came beside them and held out his arms, urging them to move forward,"-but I do so like to keep children informed and armed with tools for knowledge."

Sirius lightly tugged Hermione forward, Alphard walked beside them.

The Lord Black continued seriously, "If ever such an opportunity presented itself, I should certainly hope to rise to the occasion for children that are far more gifted and precocious than I." He looked solemnly at his nephew and Hermione.

They had reached the gates after a few breaths of silence. Alphard knelt down before the both of them and said, looking up at Sirius who awkwardly released Hermione's arm.

"Remember, I am here for you, my Nephew. I cannot always be here for you in the way that we may wish… alas." Alphard appeared to flinch away from some emotion.

Then, he looked at Hermione, "And you, my dear, are a delightful mystery," he said roguishly, "I hope that you become good friends with my Nephew." Hermione was still waiting to see how his trap played out.

The Lord rose,"You may find you have use of me, or if you cannot trust me-" He put a hand on his heart, "- trust my Nephew here." He looked meaningfully at Sirius, then at Hermione, "But my help comes with a cost. I will ask either a question, or a favor."

Sirius scoffed, and Alphard laughed at his nephews reaction. "A good thing I think you weren't in Slytherin, Nephew."

Sirius with raw emotion asked, "Honest?"

Alphard nodded and heaved a sigh then backed away beyond the gates. He gave a minor salute and _popped_ away.

Sirius, with some mist lingering around his eyes fixed Hermione with a bewildered stare. "What was that about?"

Hermione felt for the first time how thin the ice she was standing on, and the first crack had rattled her to her core.

* * *

 **1-** Those psych books she read. If you don't know- it is essentially pleasure in another's misfortune.

 **AN: _Sorry._** I am considering pushing the updates to three weeks. Very interested to hear your thoughts and 'ah-ha' moments. Also, which parts your eyes glazed over if they did.

Why are you receiving an update notice? AN EDIT: I changed a few minor details and a few things for consistencies sake- I am sorry for the trick! but I'll update a week earlier for my error.


	12. 3: I : 11 : Hubris

**Perpendicular Act I:**

 **Lost in Childhood|Childhood Lost**

 _:._ _Do you wish to rise? Begin by descending. You plan a tower that will pierce the clouds? Lay first the foundation of humility._ _:_ Saint Augustine

In which knowledge is so earned, responsibilities become apparent, and childhood is spent.

 _Chapter 11: Hubris_

* * *

After Ceridwyn had taken him down to the kitchen, Morgana came to break her fast and answer questions. It felt more as if she were testing him, rather than giving him answers; but Harry would often feel this way through the days he spent with her and the acolytes. He had not yet come to resent it.

Morgana had requested that he live and work alongside the acolytes for as long as he remained here, in the Isle of Mist, which was sort of a hidden spot for a source of Magic and power, as far as Harry could gather.

It was also the resting tomb of King Arthur, and one of Merlins anchors in his slumber that made the bridge between worlds possible.

She had told him that he was brought forward as other guests of the isle had been brought through the Mists or through the various elemental portals that Merlin had once harnessed.

Harry had been frustrated that Morgana seemed to be an open book that he couldn't read.

He asked again, "What does that mean," for what he felt like was the hundredth time during his first breakfast with her. The women around him ate and listened patiently, but looked at each other in disbelief when he asked questions about magic, Merlin or the nature of the Isle.

Morgana explained the nature of Avalon to him, "an isle outside of time," or "a tree with many roots," and Harry's least favorite, "A place that is not a place but a source sustained by legend."

Morgana affixed him with a benevolent but secretive gaze that Dumbledore used to wear, "You may be our guest for longer than I expected." She held her hand out to the snake around his neck, the weight around his shoulders nearly forgotten by Harry. Her hand was luminous, the veins clear under her skin, and she gently ran her long nail along the snout of the snake.

It flicked it's tongue out. She drew her brows together gently and looked at Harry with vibrant, hazel eyes. He felt a weight, a presence in his mind that probed gently.

Before he understood and then thought to summon the discipline of his Occlumency lessons, her mind left like a passing caress.

She answered the snake, "It was part of our ritual last moonrise. The part of you that easily spoke the parseltongue has been banished as far as I could vanquish it- but there is an undeniable hold that I have not yet been able to break."

Harry had felt lighter this morning and this was the first answer he felt like he fully understood.

Morgana stood up, "Events which have already transpired and not yet come to pass still effect what fate has woven for you."

She looked at Ceridwyn and Drysi, "Acolyte Drysi, he is your ward. He will need help."

"My Queen!" Drysi exclaimed, then shut her eyes, "Ahm, will he have the assistance of the Hawthorn wand?" She asked decorously.

"The Hawthorn tree has not bequeathed a replacement wand unto him."

Drysi, who looked as if she would rather not, bowed her head reverently.

Ceridwyn, her voice as melodical as when she first woke him, "My Queen, respectfully, may I request that I assist Drysi- it has been a few years since our last, brief ward and-"

Morgana raised her hand, "Blessed be, Ceridwyn, your caring heart may care for yet another." Ceridwyn bowed her head and smiled.

Morgana adjusted her green robe that hung loosely on her frame and said, "I have many things to tend to this day," she sighed, "including contacting Nimue."

She had an unfathomable expression on her face, indecipherable for Harry who had, in favor of asking who Nimue was, simply accepted that she was busy in the same way that Dumbledore was always mysteriously busy.

Ceridwyn showed him how to clean up, where to get water, and which food was alright to have by himself, and then explained meal times to him. Drysi then came to collect him and shoved a basket in his hands, telling him that they were going to find out if he had any connection to the earth.

He didn't. Apparently all his roots came out wrong when they went harvesting vegetation. Drysi asked how he normally went about collecting ingredients for potions, the most basic of magic.

Harry said, "Well they usually come in a bottle, so I carefully pick them off a shelf if I have to buy them."

Drysi threw down her basket in a huff and deserted him in some area of the forest. He wandered back towards the pool where he had seen Draco, and the girl he had begun to second guess was Hermione.

The snake flicked its tongue at his ear.

Ceridwyn came and found him by the pool. She was wearing a draped robe and hat with a veil on it. She patted his shoulder and told him to don one as well so he could 'meet the bees'.

Many of his outings with Drysi ended with him learning some chore with Ceridwyn that he felt better about. Chores were familiar to him, and he liked the peace of it. He returned often to the path with the stone archway that led to the clear water. Sometimes he felt eyes on him, and he would depart.

The third evening, Morgana, putting her hand on his shoulder to prevent him from taking things back to the kitchen after dinner, directly inquired as to how his magic was progressing. He responded that he hadn't made any progress, and she looked at Drysi.

Drysi said, "Neither Earth, Water or Creature have responded and he can't even call roots."

Morgana looked at Harry, who just said, "I am doing everything she tells me to do."

The woman nodded to Drysi and beckoned him outside under the clear sky. She asked him, "What is it that you want, Harry?" She walked on the damp grass barefoot and he followed her.

Harry thought about this for the first time since he had woken up and demanded to speak with his friends. There was something peaceful about this place, maybe about himself now that was content, slowly healing.

He slowed, worry setting in, "I want… to speak with my friends again."

Morgana turned towards him, "Truly, that is what you wish? That is your desire?"

Harry stood still. He felt for the first time the boundaries and mists that lay on the edge of the castle also lay on the edge of his mind.

Morgana approached him, she offered her hand and said, "Fortify yourself, Harry. Think into your pain, beyond the confusion it produces, bid your strength to judge truth."

Harry breathed and remembered. He remembered very clearly, but all of the chaos of emotions, doubt, memory, poured through like shadows grown from the twilit forest.

Morgana softly commanded, "Take my hand."

Harry, briefly remembering that he went against all ingrained warning signs the first time Morgana laid hands on him, hesitated.

She waited, her eyes above his head on the stars.

Harry wasn't ever one for a long deliberation period, and he knew in his bones before he took her hand that it would be alright.

Morgana's presence was a powerful wave and a guiding tide.

Like pushing away ferns to reveal a path underneath, she had shown him that there were connections he had yet to be feel, a growth inhibited by how he had been taught to call magic. He was untested in these areas, the pathways were less clear to him, and he did not have the stamina to flex in ways unused to moving.

The mist at the edges of his mind were blown away, and the path to the calling pool, likewise, was clear.

* * *

Sirius was slumped in the Common Room chair. His eyes glinted from the dying ember light of the fireplace.

"What are you saying?"

Hermione shifted, her back upright and away from the chair, despite the cold.

She looked at Sirius and said, "Basically, your Uncle discovered that I am trying to do something that other people are afraid to do, but I don't know where his loyalties lie."

Sirius sneered, and she quickly said, "I want to trust you, and I think we could help each other."

His expression was not often seen on a boy of eleven, almost twelve, "I don't think I like the type of relationship you're proposing here, Evans."

It was quiet.

After Alphard's exit, Sirius had looked in askance to her.

She had stared at the spot where Alphard apparated away, her thoughts racing. Sirius had nudged her, and she muttered, "Sorry, I- have to go now."

Sirius followed her up the grounds, pelting questions at her, "What's going on? Why is my Uncle sending you the news and why are you so worried about it? What kinds of questions would he possibly have to ask _you_? Or favors! What kind of favors- he sounds like a stodgy pervert or something, Merlin. Hey, Evans!"

She shook her head and he paused for a moment, grabbing his hair and groaning. Then running after her and yanking her wrist back, he forced her to look at him before they got to the Great Halls entrance.

"Evans, I also felt that push back in the hall," he growled.

She ripped her wrist out of his grip and glared at him, "I don't know what to tell you, Black, other than meet me in the Common Room, late- early, at around three."

He scoffed, "Three- what the old witching hour? Going to curse me are you?"

Hermione stomped her foot, "No! Just- it's the time we're least likely to get caught."

Sirius spun with his arms around, looking at the mostly empty field. "Caught by who? We're just talking Evans." When he turned back around she was practically running away.

He shouted after her, "Evans!"

When the time came for the meeting, she hadn't slept at all. She had intended to take him to the Room of Requirement, but he said he wanted to 'stay right here', and sat down stubbornly.

Hermione looked down. Her knuckles were white.

She had, in so many words, explained that she was working towards goals that were difficult to explain to adults, impossible to give away entirely, but was of paramount importance. Briefly, tripping a little on the words and rummaging to find the right phrasing, she had appealed to his sense of adventure and duty.

She alluded to danger and what kind of trades she was willing to make. He had turned from casually nonchalant to growling.

"What is it you need to do, Evans-" Sirius demanded petulantly, "You couldn't understand what I have lost, or what it is that I am going to have to go back to, or where my 'loyalties lie.' You've got mudblood so I don't see how- "

Hermione stood up and said coldly,"What did you say to me?"

At the same time that James said from the stairwell under his cloak, "Oi Black-"

Hermione barely felt her hair rise with static when she snapped into rage.

"You have no idea what I have lost, what loyalty _is- what you've said."_ She snarled to Sirius, her throat tightening, her mind flicking through all the things she had noticed with this _child_ \- this Sirius-not-yet-Sirius. His arrogance, laziness, the way he tore into people and friends and insulted them. Insulted her! In such an insipid, unexpected way.

"You are a callow, vicious child and I can't _believe_ that I thought that I could _consider_ trusting you with something as monumentally important as a _friend,_ much less a secret! And you-" She turned to Potter who had his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide.

"You self-centered, arrogant, cruel and thoughtless _bully_ \- I thought you prized valor." She grabbed her bag and didn't look back as she left through the portrait.

She stood for a second, shaking. Her breathing was coming in gasps and sobs, panic rising up in her.

The Fat Lady yawned out "What on earth-" but cried out as soon as she saw Hermione, "Poor dear, whatever is the matter?"

Hermione couldn't choke out the words and instead ran until she found herself in front of Minerva McGonagall's office door. She wiped her tears away and her hand wavered.

It was still very early. She decided that she would wait and calm down before she made any rash decisions.

She didn't know if she could bear a McGonagall in a braid and tartan robe. She was still dissecting the thousand mistakes she had made- if Alphard knew that she was the woman he met in Diagon alley, what about the men that had attacked the bookshop?

Gringotts, classes, wands-what else was she missing?

* * *

The week proceeded gruelingly. Lupin had been greeted by a chilly reception. He was painfully awkward when his attempts at being friendly at the breakfast table failed. Lily was confused, too; but attempted to assuage his fears, to little avail.

As a general rule, Hermione tried to be as far away from all students as possible. Hermione was avoiding Lily as well.

Accusations from students were worsening, though none of the first years took action other than dropping whispers meant to be heard.

At some point, Black and Potter were speaking with each other again, and had revitalised their camaraderie, thanks to some mediation from Lupin.

She hardly gave anyone an opportunity to engage with her, however. Any attempts were avoided, or swatted away. Adding to her press for avoidance was the anxious worry talking gave her, that someone would notice her leaf she kept tucked in her mouth.

In one particularly frustrating Transfiguration class, Hermione managed to connect with her wand in a wave. Her connection was multiplex, fulfilling, and more effectuative than what she felt with her previous wand. She was briefly elated, before the wave of connection turned into a rushing churn.

The undertow caught other Transfiguration processes. Ada, Hermione's desk partner, gasped in bewilderment as her box started to morph into Hermione's box shape and color.

Professor McGonagall, observing her students roil of confusion, noticed the shifting of all the matchboxes. She pointed her wand and said tightly, _'_ _Dùin an draoidheachd Gabh air ais'_ , sweeping her wand and tightly turning the tip.

Then suddenly all boxes reverted to their original match box state. Hermione felt like someone took her knees out from under her, and slumped in her chair. Dizzy, she only saw that McGonagall's nostrils flared as she adjusted her horn rimmed spectacles. She fixed the class with a searching stare, lips white.

Ada caught up with her after class.

"Hermione! You are going to the library to study I think, I want to come and study with you."

"Ada," she said looking at her Ravenclaw acquaintance, "I am sure you noticed that I was not faring very well in Transfiguration,"

Ada shook her head, her heavy braid barely moving, "I lost my Transfiguration as well, you saw."

Hermione said, "If you're wanting to do things right, you should get one of the Ravenclaw prefects to tutor you, I am sure they'd do a better job helping you study."

Ada looked helpless as she left.

Hermione felt worse.

She threw herself into practicing wandless magic; because if she was exhausted, then she would sleep. She would be too tired to think, to worry, and so she poured herself out.

* * *

Nearly two weeks went by with Hermione spending every spare moment exhausted.

The air turned, and fate with it.

Hermione was exiting a study hall for the first mid-terms with other first years, when an ill sung song creepily sounded from the darkness of the hallway.

' _It said, it said, Peevesies gets the bread_

 _It's hard enough to chuck, the students better duck,_

An older Slytherin girl going into study hall turned around, and said "Oh no," She stuck out her arm in front of Hermione.

 _Because Peevsies' got the bread_

Peeves appeared from the darkness holding an armful of bread. The Slytherin girl, about her fifth or sixth year, had dirty blonde hair done in a sensible braid to keep her hair out of her face. She had her wand out, and a fierce, wary countenance as she stared up at the floating poltergeist.

 _Off, off, off, on their heads,_

 _No more hearts, with little darts_

 _or Peevsies will get no more bread'_

Hermione blinked owlishly. Other students were blocked in the archway as Peeves ominously elongated the last note.

"Not tonight, you fuck wit," the Slytherin girl said.

Peeves cackled, "Ouuu naughty students with such foul mouths," He tossed up a bread loaf in one hand.

The girl waved her wand like a whip and Peeves launched the bread at the first years in the stoppered up doorway.

The spell went through the poltergeist, but the bread landed on Wallace Whitby's nose with a crunch, and he dropped.

"Bloody hell," Severus said and pulled Lily backwards.

The older Slytherin girl threw up an umbrella, "Protego!" and waved at some other older students down the hall who came jogging over, one of them yelling if someone had gotten Filch yet.

Peeves laughed maniacally.

Some of the first years thought fast, and scattered.

Peeves chucked a few more loaves, felling Darla in the back with a yelp, but Longbottom caught the bread loaf and threw it back quick as he could. Peeves shot it back and an older student "Reducto"-ed it to bread crumbs.

Hermione's vision was tunnelled to blood on Whitby's nose, and his still form. The spells, explosions, and cries happened very quickly, but Hermione felt them in slow motion, and then it switched.

Draco grabbed her by the arms and pulled her away. He threw himself over her as an explosion rocked the air. They fell and she rolled, bringing her wand up. She cried out in pain, her lower back and thigh burning as if acid was ripping through her.

He crouched behind the low wall, and spells and curses flew over their heads. Screams of pain were being ripped out of someone. Draco's fear was creating an odd sort of focus in his face, as he gritted out a rind of counter-curse spells. She gasped, short of breath for many reasons, and looked over her shoulder to see Ron, spinning as a dark curse went through him, again, and again, and again.

Harry was bellowing, his wand blurring from his speed casting. Draco grabbed her and pointed and said something she couldn't hear beyond the screeching in her ears.

They were foolish, cut off from support and communication with the resistance.

The Dark Lord had been plotting their moves, laying clues. He led them through the negative spaces they thought The Dark Lord was overlooking. He was not overlooking anything.

First, a horror in the guise of a gift to make them hopeful.

Luna led them to 'safety' many times.

Second, a trap they couldn't resist.

Neville was supposed to have been with Arthur, Molly, and George. Not like how they found them though.

Luna had bitten off her tongue to save her friends from herself, finding a morbid loophole out of her geas, but not before Ron had nearly gone mad from burying his family. He was beyond reckless, then.

Third, was The Dark Lord's masterpiece, his finale: the execution.

Draco had saved them again- the only one who really believed there was a way out, enough to keep fighting.

Draco's earnest expression was like a silver sword in her chest, he pointed and shouted an order at her. She looked. Harry was on fire.

She wiped her tears, it was wings. A phoenix wing span around him.

Draco grabbed her hand.

She ran as if swimming with lead weights.

Draco used his wand to pull Ron towards them, and Harry reached out as Fawkes propelled them to windswept steppes on the notes of his dying dirge.

Her heart was breaking again.

Cruelly, a petty voice broke through, "Oi Evans, better look at your future now, you'll be Mr. Filch's assistant in no time- maybe not, since you can't even handle some bread."

Yaxley's face drifted in front of hers, "There's a lot worse out there you know."

She put her hand up, an ineffectual ward.

The older girl that had tried protecting the first years stomped forward. With one foot out and her wand still prominently in her hand, she said, "You git, Yaxley, get out of her face before I break code."

Yaxley made a face and tucked his head towards Burke and Carrow, "C'mon, let's go." They passed a scowling Filch, who feigned a lunge at them with his broom.

Severus and Lily thudded over to Hermione.

McGonagall's voice carried over the sounds of murmurings and chatting. "Alright students, books out! Miss McKinnon, please assist Mr Whitby to the Infirmary- no not you Miss Marlene McKinnon, your sister Miss _Adeine_ McKinnon- who is a prefect and in Hufflepuff!"

"Snape if you're bothering that Gryff-" The Slytherin girl warned

Lily cut her off, "She's my sister!"

Severus shot a look over his shoulder but turned back to Hermione with worry. He held Lily's hands back from grabbing her into a hug and said, "Careful," while Lily whispered to her, "What's wrong? What's happened?"

The Slytherin girl went up to McGonagall and said, "Professor," and then pointed over at Hermione who was curled up against the wall with Lily and Severus.

McGonagall said, "Miss Meadowes, thank you for your efforts."

Meadowes suspiciously looked at her wand, muttering, "Not sure if it was just my effort," then walked with McGonagall over to Hermione.

McGonagall shot a look at Meadowes, but reached out her hand to Hermione.

McGonagall said gently, "Come now, child, let's go. We'll have a bit of tea now."

Hermione had just regained control of her breathing, but she was questioning the state of her existence and the reality around her in fear.

Professor Lugaid and Professor Jean came around the corner, led by the Hufflepuff Prefect Edan Thatcher. They walked towards the little cluster and past the bemused and injured first years. When Edan saw Hermione, he looked genuinely concerned over a girl he met once on the train.

She grabbed onto Lily, who helped her stand up

Lily said, "I am coming too," looking at McGonagall.

Hermione looked at Lily and grabbed a hold of her hand. Lily had tears misting at the corners of her eyes.

She looked at Professor McGonagall and the other Professors who came into view. Thatcher and Meadowes hung back, while Severus seemed to melt away.

Hermione smoothed her thumb on the skin on her sister's pale, freckled hands and knew that it was time, "No, it's- I am fine Lily. I think I need to speak with Professor McGonagall."

Professors Jean and Lugaid glanced at each other.

Meadowes, who had been quietly talking with Thatcher, addressed the Defense Professor, "Professor Jean, there was a bit of a flare when I cast my shield and I was wondering what may have caused it?"

Jean drew the prefects away and Lugaid rubbed his lower jaw.

Hermione released Lily's hand and promised she'd talk with her soon, but she looked at McGonagall tiredly, and shakily said, "If you please Professor, I'd like to take tea with you."

* * *

Professor McGonagall's office had changed little.

"Occlumency lessons?"

Hermione said shortly, "Yes."

McGonagall set her tea cup down and looked to be reeling in thought. "I don't see why- or how, it's incredibly difficult and dangerous magic!"

Hermione said, "Yes, I know… I have...read about it."

Professor McGonagall said primly, "To be quite frank with you Miss Evans, I am not sure that you ...have the capacity at this moment to perform such a difficult and complicated tutorship even if the Headmaster could approve of such an undertaking."

Hermione swallowed, "I think that is part of the problem Professor. I am not sure how to begin with... magic." This new form of magic, she thought. The comparison between her wandless magic and her wanded magic was becoming clearer the more her magic changed from how she had casted as Hermione Granger.

Hermione continued, "I learn very well through instruction, and I do things correctly, but it seems that there's something going wrong at the root." Because certainly her magic was around, and active.

"Fixing it by trial and error is time consuming and draining. I don't -" Hermione was going to finish with ' _I don't have time_ ' but she stopped short.

It was difficult enough baring herself to McGonagall this deeply. Occlumency was a risk, but a pensieve would hold memories she couldn't risk exposing, and she doubted their removal would be totally beneficial and its use would present additional dangers to her identity and task.

Professor McGonagall stood up and went to a portrait that was currently pretending to be asleep. She tapped on the frame with her wand.

"Attention Fawley. Please fetch Albus would you, I need to speak with him momentarily." She sighed and turned back to Hermione as the old man grumbled and dipped out of the frame.

"Miss Evans, I doubt that Occlumency will assist you in performing your magic."

"Professor," Hermione's voice broke.

McGonagall softened.

Hermione tried again, "Professor- there are things-" _inside my head, and I can't tell what is reality and what isn't._

McGonagall came over and patted her on the shoulder. Hermione choked out, "I can't sleep without dreaming...awful dreams."

Professor McGonagall said sincerely, "I will do everything in my power to assist you Miss. Evans, you must believe me, but I must know what is going on. What is really happening?"

Hermione's breath caught and she sobbed, "I don't know," she said desperately, "I am anxious all the time, nervous, scared that I won't be able to do anything." She felt desperately for the leaf in her mouth with her tongue and found it tucked in a little mulch ball at the top of her mouth against her cheek and back molar. She felt little relief.

"I feel like my mind is being pulled in all different directions, I feel ill all the time and I try to tire myself out just to sleep but I feel like nothing's working." She thought of pages of notes that she had taken. All her trials, every interpretation of error were stark from her observations.

She cried. McGonagall rubbed her back a little and when she started shuddering, instructed her to breathe, poured her some tea and told her to have a biscuit while she stepped outside momentarily.

Hermione stared at the tea and the biscuit, feeling pathetic and judging herself to be a failure. She thought of Harry and Draco for the first time in a long while. Tears steadily ran down her face. She drank tea and put the crumbling biscuit in her mouth, moving the biscuit around while attempting to put the leaf in a safer spot.

Dumbledore and McGonagall re-entered the office.

She sat and she heard them, but didn't quite listen. Dumbledore would approve Professor Lugaid to tutor her in magic, if she was permitting. She nodded mechanically.

Professor Lugaid would contact her parents and she would begin tutorship with Lugaid this weekend. She couldn't feel the impact of this yet, but knew cerebrally that this was not a good development.

Professor Dumbledore said that one of the Prefects was outside waiting to escort her to the Common Room. So, she nodded dumbly, and went outside to find Meadowes waiting for her.

Meadowes gave her a little smile and walked with her in quiet to the tower. It seemed as if she would say something once but decided against it.

Hermione crawled inside the portrait hole and went past the loud common area to bed.

* * *

Her dreams were different. A looming weight just behind her vision, an entropic presence haunted her no matter the geography she fell into... but conspicuous shadowy creatures patrolled the shifting landscapes and drove the dream.

She found herself by rivers many times, blood staining the earth at her feet. A small, sleek body lifelessly drifted on the water, and washed up on the banks. In the rocky green of Scotland, a large furry thing with sharp teeth ate into the river otter. Some loping, distorted canid in a jungle had a bloodstained snout. The rippling sands around the library of Alexandria hid sleek winged feline, its eyes glittering beneath the Dunes. A large shadow passed over her on the steppes where she buried Ron. Falling forward to avoid being snatched up, she was cushioned by snow. A foreign landscape of twisting pine covered in an icy blanket seemed to be a black and white picture. A woman with long black hair in a white robe stood on the horizon of her vision. The womans mouth moved and Hermione jolted awake.

She smelled of stale sweat, as she usually did after nightmares, and her eyes were caked with grime. Her heart was beating quickly, but the wrenching grief and terror was absent.

She left the warmth of her bed, gathering up a new set of robes and under clothes. She made her way to the bathroom and then, thinking better of it-sometimes she ran into her dorm mates there- stuffed everything she needed into a large bag. She went down to the Common Room, intending to bathe in the Room of Requirement where it was much more easily warmed and where she had additional privacy.

The Fat Lady's portrait opened by itself. She heard a whisper hiss and couldn't help but remember Ron, herself, and Harry sneaking about the castle under the invisibility cloak.

She stood there as as the two boys figured out how to crawl through together, flashing shoes and ankles.

She heard them argue by hitting each other in the ribs and various parts of their body before Black unveiled himself.

"Where do you think you're going Evans?" He said eyeing the larger than usual bag in her hands.

Potter gave an admonishing 'tsk' and irritatedly swung the cloak off his shoulders.

Hermione, letting the little ray of anger flare up again, said, "Thought you wouldn't be concerned with a _mudblood_ like me." She moved the nearly crushed leaf to the pocket under her tongue.

Even in the dim light she saw shame pop the arrogance in Blacks physiognomy.

Potter glared at Sirius with an 'I told you so' expression.

"Look," Black said rubbing his eyes, "I'm just really-"

Hermione shook her head and walked past them, "Not interested,"

Potter reached out to her and she yanked her arm free. She turned to glare at him.

Potter said, "Just- wait, will you?"

Hermione's nose wrinkled.

Potter smacked Blacks shoulder.

Black scowled. Then, looking pained, he swallowed and made eye contact for, "I-I am sorry,"

Hermione suddenly felt the familiarity of Sirius, the jagged man who laced sorrow into his boots in the morning.

Potter said, "It never occurred to him that there'd be another way to refer to your condition of ignorance regarding Pure society."

Black muttered, "You're not dirty, any one _eejit_ can see that."

Potter looked smug and he proudly ruffled Blacks hair. Hermione really wanted to smack Potters expression off Harry's face.

"'I accept your apology of pure, idiotic, ignorance you handsome chap,'" Potter said, "Is what you're supposed to say," he said leaning forward.

Hermione gave a sharp sigh and said, "Black, I forgive you for your 'condition of ignorance'. Next time, I will expect you have educated yourself."

Potter grinned and Black still looked a bit wrecked over the situation. Potter threw his arm over Blacks shoulders and said, "Alright, grand- now we'll tell you what we were doing if you tell us where you're going."

Hermione turned back to the portrait and said, "I don't care."

Potter gaped, "I can't believe her,"

Sirius said, "Just let her go James, she's obviously busy. She doesn't care about the bread contract."

Hermione really wanted to say that she didn't care, but she paused as she pushed through the portrait.

Potter gathered up his cloak and scoffed. Sirius looked defeated as he walked towards the boys dormitory.

Hermione quietly, "I am going to... the Prefect bath,"

James lit up, "There's a secret bath?"

Sirius scoffed, "Prefects bath, you knew that."

James cast his gaze down, "Oh, right." He brought his finger up, "But, I do not know where it is. Show us?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and cocked her head and exited the portrait hole. Potter threw the cloak around over her and Sirius clambered under it after softly shutting the portrait.

She hadn't been this close to either of them before, and slightly uncomfortable, knowing that she probably smelled, she blurted out, "I can't believe your parents let you take this to school."

Potter fought down a smile and said, "It's the solemn duty of a Noble and Most Ancient heir to preserve himself as best he can from an untimely ignoble death."

Hermione thought 'Sounds like poppycock,' then said, "Damn," just remembering she didn't know the password for the Prefects bath.

Hermione stopped and they blundered into each other. She turned around and said to buy time, "What is the bread contract?"

Sirius said, "Peeves went mad after an exorcism once-"

Potter said, "That means they tried to get rid of him,"

Sirius bit back, "She knows what it means,"

Potter shrugged a few times exaggeratedly, and Sirius continued, saying, "He got hold of a crossbow,"

"Teachers couldn't have that," Potter said, still smug for some ungodly reason.

"So they made a contract with him saying they wouldn't do it again and that he gets to chuck the old bread the house elves make at the students whenever there's leftovers."

Hermione opened her mouth, closed it and then started walking again. She asked, "And how did you figure all this?"

Potter explained, "We found the kitchens see, because the bread comes from the kitchens,"

Hermione couldn't tell if his tone was meant to be condescending.

James continued importantly, "And then we called a House Elf and we got the password from him and then- they fed us and apologised once we told them you had a bit of an episode when Peeves chucked that bread."

Hermione stopped again, "Episode? You weren't even there!" She said shrilly.

Sirius said as Potter shushed her, "Everyone's heard from Yaxley and Carrow, and honestly Lily isn't helping telling everyone to shut up about it."

Hermione ran a palm over her face, "Grand."

"Where is this Prefects bathroom anyway?" Potter said.

Hermione sighed, "It's on the fifth floor, behind the portrait of Boris the Bewildered, but I've just remembered- I mean forgot the password."

Sirius said, "I don't understand- then why were you going there?"

Hermione was irate at this point, "I was going to- well,- ugh, now we're going to a different bath! On the seventh floor!"

Potter sighed, "How many baths _do_ you know about? And seventh floor is a long way for a bath."

Hermione hissed, "Then go back for all I care."

Potter yawned, "Well, I would, see, on account of my exhaustion and all, but you're talking to Black- erm, us now, and you're doing quite interesting things."

Sirius said quietly, "I will pass letters on to my Uncle, still- you know. You don't have to tell me right away. I know I am not all that trustworthy."

Hermione, uncomfortable, said, "No, you're... trustworthy."

Sirius spat out, "I am a Black,"

Potter contributed, "His family's not known for the cheering charm."

Hermione nibbled her lip, "Sirius isn't his family."

Both of the boys were quiet and she didn't bother trying to turn around or make out their facial expressions.

She slipped out under the cloak once she got to the corridor causing sounds of protest from both of them. She started to pace back and forth, thinking of something a bit different than her study room this time.

Potter said from beneath the cloak, "Uhhhh Evans,"

Black unveiled himself and said, "Is this the right hallway?"

Hermione said, "I should have had you bring Remus, and I should have gotten Lily but I suppose now it's out."

Hermione, slightly unfocused, was worried that the outline of the door wouldn't appear. She stopped and pressed her hand against the wall, the boys nearing her, watching intently.

It swung open to a darker chamber than usual, and Hermione beckoned them inside as she stepped in.

Torches lit to their sides as the door closed. They stood on cobblestones that had grass springing up between the setting. The floor eased into a strange hybrid of a room and forest.

Sirius seemed to immediately relax, and awe spread across his features.

A small waterfall, just large enough for a person's head and shoulders to sit under, poured into a pond from a stream extending beyond the line of trees.

The pond sank into the floor at a steep slope. The bank where the water lapped was porcelain and tile with some moss.

Pillars oddly shimmered in and out of existence as Potter prodded them with his wand.

Hermione looked at the walls with torches, and into the distance where balls of fairy light hung beneath a starry sky.

"This," she said, "is not what I requested."

Sirius said, "This is…"

Potter said, "Bloody brilliant is what it is."

Hermione watched the surface of the water. It moved strangely. A silver bowl rose in the middle of the pond, water steadily streaming over the sides.

Hermione shook her head, "This is wrong." She looked warily at the bowl.

Sirius asked, "What's wrong?"

Potter walked up to the edge, he said, "I'm old- and I've got green eyes- wait, no I don't." He squinted.

Hermione ran forward and looked at the water.

Harry's face looked back at her. His expression of confusion and bewildered excitement without his glasses made him look especially vulnerable.

She turned to Sirius and Potter, nerves alight. Her brain whirring with questions and excitement she just pushed Potter away- the demand they get out immediately on the tip of her tongue.

Sirius looked as if something was dawning on him. A faint blush reddened his cheeks.

Potter asked, "Your baths normally do that?"

Sirius said, trying to play it cool, "Going to take a bath now, Evans?"

Hermione's heart leaped, and she dropped her bag, "Yes, exactly, so now that I have shown you -this- er, _this-_ where I bathe, please leave."

Potter said, "That's very weird though,"

Black said, "Yes, well- she's taking a _bath_ now, Potter, best leave her be and we can go and get some sleep and come back later." Potter waggled his eyebrows and Black looked aghast before shoving him back towards the door.

Hermione said, "Yes, go do that." She spun her finger around and made waving off motions.

If she didn't know better, she would think Sirius was a bit of a nervous prude. She would wonder later when it would start to change.

Sirius pulled Potter through the door. When it shut she fell to her knees by the edge of the pool, hoping to any diety that would listen that she wasn't crazy.

"Harry? Am I going mad finally, Harry, or is it you?"

"Hermione?"

* * *

Morgana drew a bowl of moonlight from the air, and carrying it, submerged herself into the pool. Her robes floated around her ethereally, baring her shoulders and legs.

He knelt by the pool and eased himself into meditative reflection. He heard voices, familiar and strange to him until he woke to a girl with curly auburn hair, his green eyes and a bearing about her that suggested she was the brightest witch of her age.

"Hermione?"

"Harry-" she began to cry into the pool and speak all at once, "Harry, where are you, are you still alive or is this some horrid trick? Something I've done wrong again?"

Harry tensed, afraid he would break the connection if the pool rippled.

Harry said, "I think I am alive."

Hermione covered her face and sobbed in relief. Harry ached to reach out to her but a sense of doom overcame him, hovering his hand over where he could see Hermione's face.

"Hermione, why are you- well, you've changed...a bit, a lot actually."

Hermione started to laugh and gasped, "Oh Harry, I'm- I am your mothers sister ...here, now- I know it's insane but I think I bollocked up the spell quite incomparably- and I can't remember, I can't remember how it worked."

Harry said, "I remember... the tree and the runes. The portal opened. Something ….came. Like a Dementor...but somehow bigger." Harry shuddered.

Hermione's tears kept dripping onto the surface of her water but Harry felt the connection sustain itself like a thrum on a chord. He continued, the clarity Morgana offered him like a wind to fog.

"The deal for something that we used for the spell was that we would have to perform a task, grant a favor and get an object- but to do so we had to break some sort of pact. We asked to … break something I think."

Hermione wiped her face, furrowed her brow, and pressed her fingers to her head.

Harry shook his head, "Wait, my mum?"

Hermione gave a wet gasp of a laugh, "Yes. I've been...put back, a whole life of memories- I think it had something to do with the nature of what I was intending, only they didn't get the specifics-or I underestimated ...them and or rather over-estimated myself."

Harry sat and thought for a moment, feeling drained as the conversation carried on.

"Hermione…" he looked at the unfamiliar face of his friend, "Hermione are you alright?"

She smiled, and then her smile broke and she shook her head. "Oh Harry! I've been so alone- can't tell anyone- what I remember- worse, I am a child _again_ in Hogwarts. Trapped because I don't know ...the rules. I don't know that I have time or what I can change and what I ought not to- my magic isn't working right either. I can't use my wand."

Harry said, "I can't- I don't have my wand either. I've… I am on some magic island with Morgana."

Hermione said, "Morgana? Harry. Morgan le Fay? She's a _dark witch-_ are you alright, what's been happening?"

Harry looked up at Morgana who had an expression distinctly reminiscent of an insouciant cat.

He said, "Bit of a fat chance that-"

Hermione looked fretful and aghast, "Harry," she began sternly.

He said, "No really, I've learned a lot from her just tonight- I've been awake for round three days and I've learned more from her in one hour than-"

"Three days?!" Hermione lamented, "I've been here nearly a year!"

"Just you?" he said, "Malfoy- what about Malfoy? Is he there with you? I saw him when I first woke- you were on the train." The chord and vibration wavered as Harry felt something shift.

Hermione shook her head and muttered, "Glad I haven't been going steadily mad then- No, I don't think so at least, I haven't found him. I can't be sure."

Harry said, "I've seen him through- like this," as the discordant note continued to waver the connection between him.

Her voice was becoming more watery, rushing out something about a new wand and whether Draco can still cast and if Draco was alright.

Morgana said softly, quickly, "Her magic is strong but undirected, like yours, but her nature is not yours." Morgana shuddered in the water, holding the bowl that held Hermione's visage.

Hermione said, "What- who's there Harry-"

Harry said, "Look for help from anything to do with magic on the Isle of Mists- old ways of doing things, I think. Something's changing."

"Alright, but Draco- Harry- I am worried about Draco as well. If I am _here_ and you're there-"

"Potter. Your face is in my pond again. I don't think it's a hallucination but I am probably wrong," Draco looked empty.

Harry was struggling to keep his mind focused. The rhythmic note that he had felt during the scrying was a vibration very strong to be holding onto without effort now.

Harry, trying to get out the important bits first said, "It's going to be tiring talking to you again like this- I am on some isle with Morgana er- Morgan Le Fay, it's been round three days for me since I last saw you."

Draco said, "A few hours for me. Are you getting off that island? Is everything all split up for you- like you're watching two things happen at once? What about Hermione?"

Harry said, "Hermione is- she's gone back and she's all different like- it's all bollocked up- but everything is the same for me, it's normal enough. I am not sure how this works but I'll work on it." Harry had steaming regret coursing through him as he remembered Malfoy yelling at him to not promise anything.

Harry heaved, "You were right- promising anything was a bad idea. I am sorry, Draco- it's all my fault."

"Fucking idiot, it's never just your fault- have a little humility once in a while, you're completely insufferable." Draco looked like he was going to reach out into the water with his other hand, then thought better of it.

Harry struggled to look at the way the water moved with Draco's hand but couldn't focus.

"How are you contacting me?"

Harry, feeling the strain start to weigh in on his muscles, his heart beating quickly from effort, "A scrying pool."

"I'll keep water around me," Draco said.

Draco looked thoughtful but quickly asked, "I am in some sort of future. And if it's the real Morgana- you're out of time."

Harry groaned, "I can hold the connection a little bit-"

Draco snapped, "As in literally you're out of a timeline." His voice warbled, more like water than sound.

Harry's head started to hurt, "I have to get into one of your timelines, then?"

Draco shook his head, "I don't know- but it makes sense now that I know Hermione's in the past- changed- not good- books- communicate-"

Draco's voice faded out as the vibration became too much for Harry to hold onto and it slipped as he slipped to unconsciousness.

* * *

"Brilliant." Draco said, with a sigh. He looked at his hand. It was still in the water and numb from it. He looked at the blood just under the surface of the skin of his knuckles.

Draco stood up and looked up at the night sky. He rolled his shoulders.

He wasn't alone. Not really. He just had to… figure out if he was responsible for the task, favor or object finder.

Draco looked at his Manor. He thought of his connections to the past and how strong he needed to be to affect the future.

Draco adjusted his sleeves, tightened his neckline and made sure his new wand was tucked into its holster before walking up to his house.

The bowl had burst into water droplets. Hermione sat near the pool for a long time.

She steadied her breath and told herself crying wasn't a weakness but she had better things to do.

She decided that she would bathe- though she was suspicious at first of bathing in the same water that Harry used to talk with her, it _was_ too beautiful to pass over the opportunity. And she really needed it.

Hermione thought about what Harry said, and after her bath exited the room and quickly Requested the study hall that she kept her notebook in.

Harry had said the _old_ ways of doing things. She smiled, it was a good thing he mentioned Morgana. The last time she had read the name Morgan Le Fay, it was mentioned in one of her earliest investments, the one Alphard had referred to.

She took the book ' _Ancient and Fabulous Books, and the Libraries that House them'_ and flipped through the thin volume to a long list under the section of custodial protection. ' _Grimoire of Morgan le Fay.'_

She seized upon her own notebooks, ' _The Decline of Paganism_ ' by Bagshot who had referred to the Arthurian legend as the starting point for some widespread shift away from druidic practices.

She thought back to the first day she started investigating, "What was the name of that- book…" She thought hard.

The headache that had plagued her was quite debilitating in the beginning, but that protection spell that had nearly worn off and tingled her fingers enough for her to remember it vividly.

"' _Wild Magic_ '," She said. As she said it, the books on the shelf above her usual writing desk, moved aside and from the back of the shelf, a book pulled itself forward, like someone was stealthily drawing it from the wrong side of the shelf.

Hermione breathed in. She put her fingertips on the edge of the book and a little spark licked her finger.

Hermione nibbled her lip and hoped she could teach herself old English and find out whatever this other language was. She sat down at her desk.

Crookshanks had come to meow at her through the door before she knew it. She sat up in her chair.

She looked at the window- "Ah, shit."

She ran out of the room, stuffing the notebook in her bag and leaving 'Wild Magic' on the desk.

Crookshanks yeowled at her and came trotting after her. She bent to pick him up.

"Sorry Crookshanks, I didn't mean to leave you alone again."

Crookshanks clambered up near her neck and rested his face her her necks warmth.

She halted at one of the stairs and thought about the time, " _Tempus_ would come in handy right now-" she said.

Crookshanks chuffed.

Hermione admonished, "Now, Crooks, don't give me that I shan't have you- oh, Professor," Hermione stopped.

Lugaid had thrown a wizards robe over a muggle outfit like a glorified jacket and looked relieved to see her.

"There you are, your sister said you may be in the library or a high window."

"You- spoke to Lily?"

"Yes, I told her that your parents had already given their permission for me to tutor you. She seemed… happy for you. I made sure that you wouldn't have to be enrolled in Magical Theory, but we'll discuss some of that subject today."

Hermione stilled on the steps, thinking about Wild Magic, Morgana and Harry- Harry who was alive and Draco who could be, too- and the hope that somehow she could maybe recover from this.

Lugaid smiled, broadly, reassuringly, "Just so I can definitively sign off on it."

Crooks meowed and sniffed her ear, and she pet his head. "When do you think we'll be done, Professor?"

Lugaid sighed and looked at the window- "I actually have arranged a brunch- or tea rather, in Hogsmeade. After that, it'll depend on you, but I want you there to meet someone." He seemed pleased.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "Hogsmeade? Why not the castle?"

Lugaid put his hands behind his back and raised his chin higher than he needed to even from his position at the base of the stairs, "If you're not comfortable leaving the castle, that's alright. We can stay here, but the tea will have to be put off until I can get permission for the person I want you to meet to enter the castle."

Hermione said, still with her finger under Crookshanks chin, "Professor Dumbledore gave his permission for me to leave the castle -with you, to Hogsmeade?"

Lugaid, grew concerned, "I didn't realise…Headmaster Dumbledore and I spoke extensively on this subject and he has entrusted me with your safety, and I received the approval of your parents this morning. I suggested that you would perhaps benefit from a different environment."

Crookshanks made a purring sound. Lugaid looked uncomfortable. Hermione paused, thinking of whether or not to ask for proof. Better safe than sorry, she said, "Did Dumbledore give you written permission?"

"Ah, that is- Dumbledore did not give me written permission. The letter from your parents is in my office, if you would like to see it." Lugaid brought his hand to lightly rest on the banister.

Hermione shook her head slowly, moving the little leaf back under her tongue.

Lugaid rose his hand up, "Look, Miss Evans. If you're not comfortable with me, I can see what I can do- but I had heard about your request to McGonagall…" He trailed off, glancing out the corner of his eye to the portraits.

"I am sorry to hear that she denied your request," he said.

Hermione said thinking fast, "I was just intending to write a letter actually, if you wouldn't mind waiting a bit at the owlery with me? The letter is rather urgent."

Lugaid seemed to brighten, "Not at all."

On their way to the owlery Hermione was quiet as was Lugaid, but near the tower he said, "Miss Evans, has something happened in your past that perhaps was detrimental to your trust in teachers?"

Hermione scoffed without thinking, her laugh sharp.

Lugaid slowed his pace, dropping behind her. Crookshanks delved into the hood of her school robe as they approached the door. Hermione drew out her pen and paper from her bag.

"I take it that something has," Lugaid said carefully.

Hermione checked her pen was working and praised her foresight to bring a pen. Inkwells not spelled against spillage was too dangerous to have in her bag.

Hermione laid the pen and paper out against her notebook and crouched down.

 _Lily,_

 _When I get back from going to Hogsmeade with - I promise I'll tell you what I can at_ **3** _pm._

 _Just so you know it's me, I know you ate all the strawberries off my fruit tart when you found out I was saving it for later and thought I wouldn't notice. Can you hurry up and figure out a better way for us to get in contact with one another?_

 _Love,_

 _Mione_

"My friend was- well let's just say a teacher didn't have good intentions." Hermione stood up, folding the letter. "So, I guess I am overly cautious."

She found Lily's young, long eared owl she had named Richard sleeping. She prodded Richard with one finger, waking him with pets. "Richard, I know you're very sleepy, but can you please take this to Lily?"

Richard, swiveled and glared at her with unhappy eyes. Hermione was glad she had convinced Lily not to name the owl Robert so she didn't have to argue with an owl named Bobby.

Hermione held up the letter, "It's a short flight."

The owl narrowed its eyes and moved its face feathers around in distaste. She held the letter up closer, "It's very important."

Crookshanks gave a little hiss from the back of her hood. Richard flapped his wings and nicked her finger as he grabbed the letter.

Hermione, shaking her head and thinking of other nicknames for Richard, looked at Professor Lugaid who seemed still concerned.

Hermione continued, "I don't have a lot of trust in authority figures, unfortunately. I hope you don't take it personally."

Lugaid looked conflicted, "I- suppose I rather shouldn't."

Hermione started the other letter cautiously.

 _Dear Lord Black,_

 _I find that I am in need of_

She tore that bit off and started again.

 _Alphard,_

 _What would you ask of me?_

She crumpled up the paper and looked to Lugaid, as she stuffed it in her pocket. "I'll just compose it later, shall I?"

Their walk to Hogsmeade was interrupted. Lugaid asked her basic questions about magic, saying that he had promised to confirm with Dumbledore that she was understanding processes and to identify lacking areas.

Hermione found the first questions to be very basic, things that she would have been delighted to answer as an eleven year old bouncing in her seat with her hand straining high.

She answered as she normally would, she recited the exact definitions.

"Gamps Law of Transfiguration largely stems as based on immutable entropic properties- essentially, transfiguration that requires energy to sustain the spell to it's form until it is broken down to a different composition." Hermione recited. She looked at Lugaid, who looked to be recalling a list of items.

She offered her own extrapolation, because in part she didn't see the point and was tired of this.

"It is not _impossible_ to create food, like the spell _aguamente-_ the rather basic conjuration spell you demonstrated to us, but that it is forbidden to drink water that's transfigured rather than conjured." Lugaid crossed his arms and looked to be about to admonish her.

She continued, adopting the familiar tone of lecturing, "Transfiguration not only takes energy from the object that has changed, but in processes of changes, like going through digestion or even heating, the energy sustaining its form from the caster will be fought against. This would mean the dangers of eating Conjured food goes beyond not feeling full if I eat it over a long period of time, unless the caster skillfully sustains the Conjuration through a considerable amount of effort for the period of digestion or transformation, and the energy avoids entropic enterprises. The same thing happens when you Transfigure more food out of some food you already have."

Lugaid looked at her with suspicion. She recalled experimenting when they were desperate, on the run- and that one time… when Ron mentioned Molly's famous cooking skills. She tried to look like it was an off-hand theory.

"However, if I eat food that has been totally Transfigured, it would be nearly impossible for the magic to retain its newfound structure because it is a closed knot. The spell of Transfiguration commands the thing to not be what it is- and when the object of the spell obeys it's new nature- it must seek new energy, more life. What once was a closed knot devours itself, and if it cannot sustain the change through the energy of its old nature..."

Hermione swallowed a bit and looked at Lugaid, "It devours any energy in the process of change." She watched the ground move as she walked.

Lugaid furrowed his brow, "That is… an interesting theory. I can see that you understand the workings of magic from a very abstract level Miss Evans. I am impressed."

Hermione shook her head. "I am not sure what testing me on these subjects will prove, Professor."

Lugaid spoke after they reached the Hogsmeade boundary, "It only proves that it isn't your lack of understanding or effort that inhibit your magic and it proves that my trust in you is warranted."

He laid a finger on her shoulder to turn her. She obliged. He said, very seriously, "I am trusting you with a very important task, and a bit of a burden that I normally wouldn't place on a child."

Hermione immediately became suspicious and curious. Latently, she thought if he was putting something like that on her, she could use it to her advantage.

He said, "I am taking you to meet an individual that is skilled in the art of mental magic. They will be speaking to us across a great distance and it is not quite Occlumency, but it is very similar."

Hermione blinked.

He nodded his head, "Come, I have arranged for a room with a conversation mirror."

A medieval pub stood quaintly in a more populated Hogsmeade than when she was first a student. A wooden sign in the shape of a circle hung on the outside, but there were no letters that she could make out.

Inside there was quite a few groups seated around comfortable chairs and low tables with steaming mugs. It felt quite like a nice Irish pub, complete with a few musicians tucked away in the corner by one of the fires.

Professor Lugaid greeted the bartender, who smiled, nodded and pointed to the second story with three fingers.

Hermione felt as if she ought to introduce herself but Lugaid patted her on the shoulder and ushered her upstairs where there were private looking booths that had curtains or doors in salon like benches around a table.

Lugaid opened the third door and gestured Hermione in with his free hand.

Hermione saw the piles of steaming food on the table, eggs, waffles, toasts, and realised that she was quite hungry. There was a large mirror, plain with some silver stains under the glass that was propped up on it's own by the wall across from the table.

Hermione sat and scooted to where a place seating was laid out. She looked at the mirror across from her, a question on her lips but she let out a startled gasp and reflexively grabbed for her wand.

There was a woman seated across from her, in the mirror, with a tea set in front of her. She was seated, kneeling on the floor with a large robe over her. Her long black hair pooling around her knees. She smiled, close lipped, and her eyes were delightful half moon shapes.

"Hello Hermione." The woman's voice carried a strange cadence, like talking long distance over the phone. The woman bowed her head forward slightly.

Hermione, entranced, mirrored her and then felt like an idiot as Crookshanks slid forward on her shoulder. Lugaid bowed deeply and said "Kage-san, you honor me."

Kage covered her mouth with a sleeve and laughed, "Lug, you are so formal now. Children do not typically enjoy formalities. Do you enjoy them, Miss Hermione Evans?"

Hermione was pleasantly inspecting the background that she could see behind the woman. It appeared to be night, and the woman had an open patio overlooking an enclosed garden with a small bent pine.

Hermione came to attention, "Not particularly. I find that they make important events move slower and keep certain people in power more than it ought to."

Kage didn't lower her sleeve, but her eyes relaxed. She looked shrewd for a moment before she lowered her hand to the steaming teapot and said, "Let us begin- you must be very hungry."

Hermione's mouth watered and she began to pile her plate with french toast and berries. Lugaid tucked in as well.

He asked, "Are we very late? It's already past seven there, isn't it?"

She shook her head, "No- I could hardly notice the time pass. I was enjoying the scenery."

Hermione said, "It's my fault. I needed to send a letter." She fed Crookshanks a sausage.

"Then I am glad you did." Kage looked behind her, holding a steaming cup of tea in her hands.

Hermione tucked the leaf beneath her tongue, habitually at this point, and popped a berry into her mouth. Kage sipped the tea and looked at Hermione over the rim of her cup.

Hermione said, "I've never met a Japanese witch before."

Lugaid seemed to grow sheepish, but Kage looked pleased, "It is so rare that East and West traditions come together. I was pleased when your Professor called upon me to see what aid I may offer."

Hermione looked at the womans pale face, her black eyes. She felt a shudder run through her.

The woman asked in a tongue that was not Hermione's own but one that she understood as, " _May I enter?_ "

Kage continued to engage Lugaid in conversation, but Hermione had begun a mental conversation with the woman beyond the mirror.

Hermione struggled. She wanted to learn but she was exposing more people to risks, and risking her goals.

Hermione managed to convey her refusal.

The woman gently asked, " _Would you like me to simply fix it? I can ensure that your mind is walled from the pain that tears at you- there is such a foundation already present."_

Hermione didn't formulate a direct question, too focused on hearing both conversations and not sure which input to ignore- but her cry of betrayal did not need articulation. How had she known that?

The woman answered her question regardless, " _It is clear for all that make such glances and connections. I have stayed out. My offer still stands."_

Hermione had already known her answer, she would not be taking the easy way out. She would learn how to do it herself or it would not be done.

Yet- she wondered if there was a way to find out more- who had laid the foundation for barriers? And why had they deteriorated?

The woman continued, "It is so rare that I find a student that interests me," she placed her cup down. "I see your need for shields. Your aura is raw, untamed. You will need training- you appear to already have discipline."

Lugaid looked at Hermione and then back at Kage, questioningly.

A white fox came up from the garden area and sat at a threshold. Hermione blinked, chills running up her neck.

Kage said, "The training I offer will require supplemental knowledge beyond that which you seek."

Lugaid looked at Hermione appraisingly, "I very much doubt that that will be an issue, don't you Miss Evans?"

Hermione looked abashed, "I- ahm, anything that I can try, I will."

Kage bowed low, "I will be in contact with both of you soon. I accept your challenge." She looked at Hermione. Hermione pushed her hair behind her ear and tried to ignore the golden eyes of the white fox. She squinted a little, trying to make out if it had something wrong with its tail.

" _You are looking for a messenger tonight in your dreams. Meditate on the elements in your waking hours. You must find what element calls to you before we can begin. Perhaps see an Old Teacher, one of the Ancient bearers of knowledge."_

"Thank you," Lugaid said.

Kage's image vanished like smoke.

* * *

 _Eejit_ ; the Irish sound for idiot.

Kage: KAh-Geh, **影**

And so concludes Act I. Critique on feedback on the direction of the story, the pace and how you feel after a bit of a conclusive chapter is appreciated.


	13. 2: II: 12: Cacoethes

**Act II: Render**

 _The world is all gates, all opportunities, strings of tension waiting to be struck.:_ Ralph Waldo Emerson

In which Harry is caught up in another's quest and begins the first task.

 _Chapter 12: Cacoethes_

* * *

Harry was wandering the bright green knolls with a satchel, and a snake. The snake was good albeit silent company and seemed to prefer Harry's neck as a perch.

Harry wasn't sure if this is what people meant by having a familiar, but he thought he would listen to Ceridwyn's advice and speak to the snake. She said it may help him to regain his parseltongue.

He felt like an idiot talking to plants though, he wasn't going to take her up on that. He hadn't heard Neville talk to plants, and he was the best at plants. Drysi's barb about him not being able to talk to earth anyway dug under his skin, but he resigned himself to the accuracy of her insult.

Harry had slowly realised that Drysi and Ceridwyn were both teaching him different forms of wandless magic after Morgana had taken him to the scrying pool.

He had woken up in his room, knowing he had collapsed speaking to Draco in the water. During breakfast, which Ceridwyn had to come fetch him for, he had gotten a lecture from Alula.

Alula's brown hair was frizzy, escaping from the plaits she had wound around her head, giving her a perpetual soft halo. However, her face was stern and sharp when she revealed that she had been his primary healer, and was quite tired of nursing him back to health when she had other things to attend to.

Harry was to help her with her chores for a time, on top of Ceridwyn and Drysi's tasks. During his recovery, he felt in odd moments that things were coming back to him, and they darkened his mood considerably. Ceridwyn seemed to sense whenever his anger or grief leaked through. She stopped mid-way through a lesson on literal birds and bees, and gently told him to go to back to Alula, rather than Drysi.

He was able to consistently beat the melancholy out with hard work done alongside Alula. Whenever memories floated up like vomit, he tried to look into them as Morgana had told him to do, and with a bit of shameful gratitude, it seemed he didn't have to remember everything at once.

He could focus on his tasks and the new knowledge he was supposed to be applying. With Alula, it was tending to the river nets of fish, moving rocks from streams, climbing and adjusting crystals in various pools, and assisting her with processing then bottling herbs. Pestering her about letting him try to contact Hermione or Draco again, was not very fruitful.

Neither her face, her disposition, nor corded arms matched what Harry had imagined a Healer would be, he thought as she beat a stone pestle against a slab of rock, grinding roots into a pulp.

She lectured him on the dangers of draining himself with his magic if he did not learn to rely on channelling powers outside of himself. She told him that he could certainly hear, but he didn't _listen._ Harry felt that she had forbade him in all ways but outright forbidding his attempt at contact, but he grudgingly had a lump of reasons, as well as a sore spot, barring him from trying again.

Harry determined that if he was to see Draco and Hermione again, or contact them at all, he had better start paying closer attention.

Days faded together, and he grew acquainted with the other acolytes, though not with all of their ways.

He was off doing his own chores now, which he now understood to be the acolytes way of instruction.

He knelt down by a flowering plant. Trying to get a better look at it, he put a finger up to his nose in an attempt to right his glasses out of habit.

While he was staring at the blossoms, a strange wind passed through his cowl and blew into his hood. He looked out over the grassy knolls. The forest lingered over the horizon but the mountains and the cliffs and sea were hidden behind the thin veil of mist.

He sighed and looked back at the weed like flower springing up from the earth in a little bush like bundle. It was purple-ish, he thought.

He asked the snake, "D'you think this is… Enchanters Plant?"

The snake flicked out his tongue to the flower and swung its head to Harry. It flicked its tongue out once again.

Harry looked doubtful, but thought he should probably gather it anyway. He set about trying to pull the plant up entirely so it could be relocated to the part of the garden he was supposed to be cultivating.

After a few minutes of struggle, he thought he heard hoofbeats. He stood up, his hands raw and itchy from the plant that he was now pretty sure was _not_ the Enchanters Plant he was sent to gather.

He looked around. He definitely heard it, but the beats suddenly stopped.

Harry narrowed his eyes and his hand twitched without his wand. He looked back down at the plant and resolved to at least take a sprig before heading back to the castle.

He attempted to wrest a sample from the woody plant, but a cold line of steel set against his throat just above his cowl.

He instinctively leaned back and tried to look up through his hood. All he could see was a familiar looking blade.

A man's voice growled, "Move, hedgewitch, and I will rend you asunder."

The snake coiled tighter around Harry's neck. Harry, already strained with adrenaline and irritation at being caught unawares, grunted.

The blade pushed into his neck, guiding him back and upwards. Harry glimpsed heavy red cloth, armored boots, and decided he wasn't going to suffer the 'attack first, torture answers out him later' method.

Harry threw himself backwards, an awkward leap and roll that resulted in him landing on his shoulder. He hoped the snake wasn't crushed by throwing himself on the ground. He was just able to spring up before he turned and took off.

He heard the man shout after him, and not taking a second to register that he may have gotten away, he instinctively reached for the mists and in his mind called to _Obscuro_ himself. It was just like casting the spell, except he _felt_ it on a much larger scale.

The mists rushed in on a wind, and he heard a horse's whinny and then hoof beats again.

Harry tried to run faster and ripped down his hood so he could throw a look behind him. He couldn't see swordsman, but heard him bellow a spell.

Harry's gut told him to run faster, but he didn't know _how_ he would outrun a _horse_ short of suddenly becoming a horse- or stag, he thought desperately. He wished for his broom, his invisibility cloak and then miraculously thought about disillusionment.

He reached out, like he would have as if he had his wand, and _pulled. Disillusionment_ had always sort of felt like a thin, ribbon-like rope flicked around him when he cast it with his wand. Now, he was pulling on rope as thick as his arm, a velvety egg sploching sensation where it wrapped around him.

His desire to be unseen flooded through, and he drew on the mist once more, hoping that it was working, but not really having the wherewithal to question his choice of action.

The mist settled and stuck on his skin. His heart, thudding in his chest, his heavy breathing from the run, kept him centered as the horse thudded in a circle around him. The faint outline of the horse pressed against the mist.

Harry held steady, gulping air as quietly as he could. The man incanted an unfamiliar spell. Suddenly, a burst of red warm light shot out from around the silhouette of the rider, evaporating the mist, thinning just in front of Harry's vision.

Harry inched backwards, as quietly as he could, his lungs screaming for air. The snake's tail wrapped around his torso.

He drew back steadily as the man pulled the horse to look around. He wore a red cloak, and beneath practical looking robes, armor; his sword glinted red and silver in the mist.

He pointed his sword in another direction a sliver to Harry's left, and muttered the same spell, swinging his sword. A heat burst thundered out once more from his sword and he charged forth.

Harry turned to run in the opposite direction.

Eventually the mist ended, and he could not hear hoofbeats when he paused to breathe. He continued to run back towards the castle, running along and through a bit of the forest until he found the right path. He had thankfully gotten better at finding it though he hadn't understood why.

Sweating, lungs burning and sides seizing, he made it to the garden when he found a few of the Acolytes- Drysi among them. He panted, "There's- a man- here."

He put his hands on his knees as Drysi looked at him like he was saying something stupid on purpose again.

One of the other acolytes, a woman with blonde hair and a slight frame named Bodhmall, urged, "What kind of man?"

Harry heaved, "Sword- horse- wizard- called me- hedgewitch."

Drysi looked at Bodhmall who turned and ran into the castle, and then glanced to the other acolyte who had her face partially hidden, as usual, with a cowl.

Drysi demanded, "Who did you call here?"

Harry gasped, "Me?"

Drysi looked as if she were going to shout at him, but the other woman grabbed her by her arm.

"Drysi, Bodhmall has not gone to get our lady Queen, she has gone to get her weapon, and so I shall warn the others to form a circle in case he truly is a dark power."

Her cowl covered her face but her raspy voice was clear.

Drysi appeared to stare down Harry rather than listen to her sister acolyte.

Harry glared back at her, as the other woman left them in the garden. "I am trying to tell you- that you are in _danger_. I was out gathering Enchanters Plant when he just- pointed his sword at me." He held out his hands which were red and swollen.

Drysi grabbed his wrists, wrapped for work and the cold. She lifted them and accused, "Milkweed- an agent of poison."

Harry looked at his hands questioningly, and suddenly Ceridwyn came up the pathway, yelling at Drysi to go to her station, but Drysi was glaring, "I do not trust you and I do not like you or your spoiled ilk- that another man is here after you have stayed with us so long is no coincidence."

The sunny garden with bright blossoms and fat honey bees buzzing around seemed to be an incongruous place for Drysi to be so untrusting and cold, and Harry was quite offended.

Drysi threw down Harry's hands and wrapped her dark hair securely around her head before she began to climb a stone pillar covered in rose vines.

Ceridwyn came up to Harry's side, a little breathless she gave him a reassuring smile as she tugged at him, "Come along now, Morgana will be here soon and we should start the circle-"

Harry asked, "How did you know?"

Ceridwyn in wonderlike puzzlement and said, "My lessons- a bird," She stopped short, spotting the rider.

The sun shone on the approaching interloper like a beacon. The horse charged through the grasses and passed through the first of the lavender and sage bushes that lay on the open part of the garden.

"Halt! Rider, stay your destrier or you shall be struck down!" The commanding voice came from above.

Harry craned his neck back as far as the snake around his body would let him, to see Bodhmall.

She was wearing nearly nothing and had strung an arrow in a bow. Her lithe body was balancing on one of the branches that had extended from a high window and was carefully making her way to a position where she could get the rider in range of her arrow point.

Ceridwyn, holding tightly to Harry's arm, pulled him back towards the side entrance from this part of the garden, which Harry had awkwardly learned was the barmkin- one of many entrances to the inner castle. Harry did not want to be huddled away into the castle.

The rider announced from beyond one of the ruined walls that partially shielded the Western side of the garden inthe bailey, "I come here to confront the sorceress Le Fay who has taken refuge after committing an act of War upon my land and people."

"Falsehoods." Bodhmall said icily from her perch, trying to find a way to both keep her out of range and put the rider into range.

The man, louder this time, "My quarrel is with her alone-" It sounded like he dismounted his horse and the slick scrape of steel sounded, "Yet, if you seek to stop me I will have no choice but to raise my blade against you."

Drysi began to intone something from atop her bramble covered pillar.

Ceridwyn sighed, "Goddesses above," and her expression wasn't unlike Molly Weasleys face when she was exasperated with her children.

Ceridwyn bit her lip and looked back at the archway, moving in front of Harry, and she slowly stepped them back towards the side entrance.

Harry, stubborn and certainly not going to just leave them to fight alone, didn't budge. He was watching Drysi as the thorny vines and shrubs around her began to swell and grow monstrous.

The man had come around the corner. His breastplate armor piece was a roaring lion head, and he had a golden lion rampant on his clothing. His drawn sword, held by gloved hand, was encrusted with rubies the size of eggs.

Harry gaped. The barrel chested man with long hair around his strongly featured face was striking, and strikingly familiar.

"I am Godric Gryffindor, champion chosen to restore the rune of Tranquility and the ley line of power that Hogwarts is built upon- you would do well to stand aside!" He commanded, his sword pointed at Drysi who was poised to send her rose vines towards him.

Morgana called from the stairwell, "Peace, intrepid adventurer. I am here-"

She emerged, effulgent from the shadowed entrance. Her robes were wrapped around her in her usual careless way, as if she had put them on as an afterthought. She smiled and rose her hand towards Drysi's growing vines and thorns, and they shrank back.

Bodhmall lowered her nocked arrow and looked suspiciously at Godric Gryffindor, who warily shifted his gaze.

She stepped forward slowly, "You wish to have audience with me? Then I shall so grant you an audience. Put away your sword and enter my home as a guest- partake of our food and wine."

"You believe that I would trust your benevolence?" Gryffindor held his sword at the ready.

Morgana's eyebrow barely raised, "What have I done to earn such disdain and mistrust from you?"

"You hide after committing acts of war and destruction upon lands under clear protection." He squared off towards Morgana, and moving so his back was never to anyone.

He chucked his chin towards Harry who was stubbornly resisting Ceridwyn's nudges, "This man- alone among enchantresses, clearly you have placed some spell over him as you do mine own eyes."

Morgana smiled and stepped forward, not so much mirroring Godric but coming past Ceridwyn and Harry.

For the first time Harry saw the sharpness to her smile, and heard her bitter edge as she said, "What enchantment have I put over your eyes? His eyes I have given back to him- a curse we broke him free of."

Harry wasn't sure if she was being metaphorical when she mentioned curse, but scratched his head and stuck it under things to ask about later.

Morgana's voice was imperious, "What boon have I granted you, unknowingly?"

Godric tensed, his expression becoming both deeply disgruntled and questioning.

Harry, against his better wisdom blurted out, "I was sorted into Gryffindor house, and-" He pointed to the sword, "I used your sword there to kill a basilisk. Dead useful having a sword come round to anyone who needs it. I would have died in my second year at Hogwarts if you hadn't thought of that."

Come to think of it, Harry wrinkled his brow, hadn't he the sword and the cloak before? Where had they gone?

The garden went very quiet. There was an awkward shift as Godric looked at his sword and looked back at Harry dubiously. "Impossible- I remember all my students."

Ceridwyn looked at Harry, "A basilisk?" The snake against his neck shifted and coiled.

Harry realising what he had spouted out said, "Ah- erm, well-" He still couldn't really believe it was his houses Founder and had the sort of blabbering absence of common sense that he had gotten around Cho Chang

Godric looked upsettingly bewildered, "How did you know that I had enchanted the sword so?"

Morgana looked to Harry and Godric calculatingly, and hooded her eyes and said, "Please, Sir Gryffindor. Enter my house as a guest and we shall talk as equals. Clearly we have netted ourselves into a riddle to be solved."

Godric scowled, "You have stolen the power of the ley lines that guard and protect my charges and the charges of my chosen kin, I am here to restore that ley line and gain back the rune of Tranquility- not to sit and sip on wine and become ensorcelled."

Morgana, her teeth sharp, enunciated, "I have not taken such things from you nor your kin. I have no interest in such tributaries of magic."

Godric stubbornly set his jaw, and shifted his shoulder.

Drysi cried from her pillar, animosity evident, "My Queen, he is arrogant to invade us like this and to slander you so. Is his life worth so much more than this insult?"

Ceridwyn and Bodhmall exclaimed, "Drysi!" in different tones. Harry secretly agreed with them and eyes riveted on Godric and his sword, personally thought that it would be a bad idea to attack him.

The Queen raised her hand to quell the small upset and brushed it away, "I am able to suffer insults because a Queen that can afford mercy is the one that is beyond questioning."

Harry asked, abruptly, "Why?"

Morgana and the other acolytes looked at him sharply,

"I mean," Harry said, "Why do you think that Morgana did these things?"

Godric clenched his teeth together. "I was told that she was responsible by people I place my trust in,"

Morgana, curious now, watched Godric.

Harry, taut, maintained eye contact with Godric, "By _who_?"

Godric said, "It matters not, for they have my trust."

Harry, thinking that even if it was a person he recognized, like say Slytherin, quickly said, "Yes, alright, fine then- Morgana?"

Morgana said, "Yes, Harry?"

Harry said, "Where would you keep a rune of Tranquility if you had one?"

Morgana answered, "I would not have need of one."

Harry said, "Yes, right but," He stepped out from out from Ceridwyn's shield-like positioning, which had been a bit comical as her head came just beneath his chin.

Harry gestured towards Godric, "He should prove you did steal the lay line things. If you could somehow prove you didn't have it, or that it was elsewhere and-" Harry faltered, realising all the eyes on him were of people in a much better position to hand his arse to him.

Harry said stubbornly, "I think it might be a better alternative than just killing each other without getting any answers."

Godric sheathed his sword, "A reasonable alternative to bloodshed."

Harry thought it was odd that Godric put his sword away so quickly when so far he had been alternately defensive and pointedly aggressive. Harry put a hand up to his neck reflexively feeling for any blood.

Godric drew out a wand and held it up. "I think that a circle of truth would do nicely- I have never much been one for Divination- so if you agree to submit, then we will have this done quickly."

He slammed the wand down into the ground and started carving in the earth. Morgana and the others looked at him as he turned his head up at them expectantly. He gestured and the acolytes turned to Morgana.

Morgana asked, "You use Hazel? Then I shall call for Ash." Morgana seemed amused, charmed even.

She waved to Bodhmall, Ceridwyn and Drysi and gestured to the man carving out a rune on the ground. She turned and waved her fingers as she walked off to another part of the garden. Harry saw that other acolytes that had appeared; Alula, and two others held halved apples with a leaf over the core.

He turned back to the kneeling man, wanting to ask Godric what kind of proof the person who told him offered if he wasn't going to say who sent him here.

Before Harry could ask, Bodhmall leapt off the low wall she had been balanced on, shot her arrow into the ground, and then landed next to Godric.

Godric placed his hand up like he would draw his sword but averted his eyes as she glared at him from her position.

Godric glanced at Harry, and said, "Best get your wand out so this spell breaks your enchantment."

Harry said, "I am not enchanted- and I don't have a wand." Another question resounded in his head, "My wand-" they never told him why he needed a new one.

Ceridwyn patted his shoulder and urged him forward. Drysi slid down and held her hand over the dirt and started the chant much like the one she had used to grow the rose bush. Godric looked suspiciously at her and Ceridwyn positioned herself then appeared to think while looking at Harry.

"Harry, I think you should go to the Hawthorn tree and ask for a wand."

Harry made a face, "I am not sure what a Hawthorn tree looks like, much less how to ask it for a wand."

Ceridwyn gave him a pitying look, "Listen to yourself,"

Harry said, "I am listening to myself and I sound like a very rational person."

Her impish face crinkled into a mischievous smile and she swatted him away and pushed him along a path. " _Listen_ \- The Hawthorn stands between the sea and stone, alone. Drysi took you- from there." She pointed.

Harry jogged around the wall, saving his questions for later. The wooden archways to his right led him to the open air pavilion where he had first met Morgana, so he veered left and went past the castle grounds. He grunted, knowing he would have to run, but feeling that his chest was still a little sore from when he had sprinted away from Gryffindor. He doggedly kicked up his feet.

Drysi, on one of her grating instructional gathering tasks, had taken him to the ledge. They had not gone near the tree but rather she had pointed at it and simply labeled it, "The Hawthorn tree."

His gaze was drawn to the forest, but he knew that the Hawthorn stood apart, by another of the stone slab archways.

The snake shifted around him again. He stood breathing heavily in front of the Hawthorn tree and the branches creaked. Harry braced himself for a Whomping Willow type sentience, but there was no dodgy whomping.

He sighed and tried to listen.

The tree's branches eaked out sounds between breaths of wind. Harry wasn't sure if the tree was speaking, much less if it were sentient in any way he could understand.

There was a strange sort of recognition that the tree addressed him. Once he felt it it, was very hard to turn away from the feeling.

He thought of the situation at hand and how best to express it- to a tree no less, and felt quite foolish.

A twig thunked onto his head. It fell on the ground and Harry picked it up, "This is it? This is the new wand?" It was the size of his hand and thinner than his pinkie finger.

The trees branches groaned like someone rolling over under the covers.

Harry looked down to where the snake was peeking out by his collarbone, "Is this the wand I am supposed to get?"

" _Gifts, freely given, should not be quessstioned._ " The snake wasn't looking at him.

Harry, delighted that he heard the snake, took the snakes advice to heart. He sprinted back to the circle.

He held out the twig to the four kneeling casters, and panted, "I have the Hawthorne wand."

Morgana, kneeling across from Godric, did not look surprised and pointed to the spot next to her. Godric, between a tense Drysi and Bodhmall, looked as if he would very much like to question why his twig was so small, but didn't.

Harry knelt down and put the tip of the Hawthorn twig down near a nexus- something that he had learned about briefly in Transfiguration and was sort of intuitively guessing at now.

Godric, without waiting for a signal, began a chant. Immediately, his wand tip, stamped into the soil, began to thrum.

Harry listened to the chord of magic emanating from Godric's wand curiously and attentively. Then, Bodhmall joined the chant with her arrow; then, Drysi with the sapling she had grown; then, Morgana. It was a rolling wave of words and chords.

Harry thought he should probably join in as well, except he didn't know the words and was nervous about bollocking it up.

He listened, and like how Morgana had showed him, grasped onto the thrum and poured himself into it, intending to help along the truth spell.

Eventually, the chords ended on the same beat, and a rush of energy flowed through him. It bathed the garden in a heavenly glow. Outlines of and within everything could be seen.

Its beauty took Harry's breath away, the glow around heartbeats and the heads of the chanters were white hot. The outlines of their bodies, the veins under their skin, were effervescent. The flowers and plants nearly sang with color. Harry's skin felt tender and sensitive, a burble of something akin to wonder and unease clawed around in his belly eagerly.

Morgana stood first, breathing deeply, closing her molten gold-green eyes. Godric shakily got to his feet, slack-jawed.

"What- is this- this has not happened before." His eyes were russett and Harry could see knots in him, tied up so tight they looked like they bled.

Morgana said, "Yes, it has. You are on the Isle of Avalon, my realm- behold the pure burning energy of its light."

Morgana breathed in and the glow lessened, the feeling of revelation dimming to less than overwhelming, but she remained glorious, "Now, silly man, come look for the truth and you shall discover lies." Morgana adjusted her robes.

Godric scowled and moved forward. "I will- discover…" Godric seemed to swallow heavily as his words caught in his throat.

"Ah," Morgana held up a hand, "No predictions- it will not end well."

Godric coughed and glared.

Harry said, "It's beautiful- this is beautiful, but how will it help us find the rune stone thing?"

Godric sharply looked at Harry, "I never said it was a stone,"

Harry shrugged, "I figured it'd be a stone."

"I thought she said no predictions," Godric said crossly as if noting an injustice.

Morgana, lightly, "Harry didn't predict. He had reasons." The Queen of Avalon fondly looked at the young man in her charge, "Harry, Godric will look through the castle and find no rune stone of Tranquility." She gave a pointed and indulgent look over to Godric, then continued, "I will take a walk, and check on my other wards as it is not every day I get such virile energy from a truth circle." She breathed and smiled, looking fierce.

"As it is an aura, you should stay with him- without me the intensity will lessen, and I believe that it will improve your ...functionality." She gestured to the other women. Like Godric, they appeared to have shadowy fissures in them. Only Morgana was too raw too look within, and Harry didn't try too hard. He wouldn't want them looking into him too closely either, it felt intensely personal and much like trespassing on an intimate moment.

The women departed and Godric set his narrowed eyes on Harry.

Harry cleared his throat, giving a sidelong glance at the Hogwarts Founder and said, "Shall I show you around then? Or did you just wan-"

Godric pushed past Harry and went into the castle.

Harry breathed out and blew his fringe up. "Alright then. Guess you'll lead the way."

* * *

Harry was leaned up against a wall, his arms crossed. He felt a stirring sense of empathy for Hermione as he watched Godric push against stone.

He muttered, "If this is how Hermione felt watching me all the time-"

He was hungry, frustrated and feeling a little sick from the truth aura, so he said louder, "As your guide I feel as if it's my duty to let you know that- _that_ is a wall."

Godric pushed back his red blond hair away from his face, and grunted. Godric had mostly been silent, and Harry had gone with it for what he felt was a better part of an hour. The hesitation and amazement had worn off as the castle was searched thoroughly. Naturally, Harry had less inhibition as Godric became more stubborn.

Godric grumbled, "I thought it looked like a non-magical secret door."

Harry came off of the wall and looked at it, "Why?"

Godric pointed at the pattern of vines that decorated the wall segment. "It was… detailed."

"Like...decoration? Look, I can take you to a part of the castle grounds we've not been yet. We should go before this fully wears off."

Godric squinted at him, all brooding eyebrows and proud jaw. Harry shifted uncomfortably before Godric announced, "Accepted. Lead the way."

Harry took Godric through the passageway crossing one of the larger living spaces and up through a stairwell that would have eventually led to a path with a stone archway. Harry was curious about seeing the stone henges for himself in this state.

In an alcove just ere the landing, the snake slithered out and hissed at Godric. Godric pinned Harry to the wall. The stone was unforgivingly hard on Harry's jaw and cheek, and it dazed him, but he could still feel the tip of a wand on the back of his head. Harry struggled briefly, Godric muttered furiously. Harry screamed as his lighting scar lit up in excruciating pain.

All the terrible overtures that had started this past week came hurling up, along with the sickly copper feeling of Voldemort inside his head.

Godric flipped him around, but Harry lost his balance, his head thrashing.

Voldemort casting spells, green flashing light, and the high pitch screams from his mother consumed him.

After the first slamming force, Harry sucked in breath trying to scrape together some control- anything he remembered from his lessons with Remus for Dementors, or his lessons with Snape for Occlumency.

Godric was battling with some kind of ghoulish strand coming from Harry's body. A thing with long needle like teeth and depressions for eye sockets tried to writhe away from a shield of light that Godric was using to blister and bulwark it. He was attempting to wrest it from Harry and sear the connection, but it struggled, and Harry felt every blow.

The line became more intense, darker and he saw the thing for what it was; Voldemort. The thread from the ghastly apparition extended outwards past the castle walls into the distance. In his heart, he suddenly knew.

Godric started to return to more of that intense russet figure that he had seen at the crest of the truth aura before Morgana had departed.

He heard Morgana's return through a slew of spells she cried from behind the battling Gryffindor.

Harry couldn't fight the nausea as his body violently rejected being put back together and vomited up oats then bile.

Harry contorted as his stomach heaved, and his head felt like it was going to split as it twisted his body. He felt rather than heard Morgana and Godric exchange tense, quick words.

Morgana beckoned Godric to follow her as she ran. Godric grabbed Harry around the middle and slung him over his shoulder.

They ran down to the barmkin. Morgana flung her hand out, catching her Ash wand, breaking the line. Godric kicked over his Hazel wand stuck in the earth and shoved Harry over the Hawthorn twig.

Other acolytes appeared, including Bodhmall and Drysi, who extracted their wand focuses from the earth. The absence of the clarity that the truth aura had lent him was depressing, things seemed duller and less real. Seeing double, wrung out, Harry was limp.

Alula pounded over and cradled Harry's head. Alula shouted at Godric and tilted Harry's head upward to get him to swallow some sap like potion.

His stomach clenched but Alula forced it down his throat. After some choking, the nausea dispersed, leaving Harry weightless and washed of pain. Yet, as Harry faded, he held onto the kernel of sorrow that Voldemort still lived- within him.

* * *

"It really can't be good for me to keep bloody fainting." Harry groaned before his eyes were even open.

There was a bird song as usual outside his window but a gruff laugh startled him.

He blearily opened one eye and saw Godric hunched over on a chair in what had become his room. Harry jolted, the sudden activity causing his whole reality to lurch as per the usual encounter with Voldemort.

Godric merely looked up at him, his brow knotted. "Your destiny lies beyond these misty barriers."

Harry, heart beating fast, warily looking at Godric who had attacked him twice in the same day. Then he sighed heavily, "Yeah, thanks."

Godric asked, "How are you feeling?"

Harry, remembering every time someone had asked him how he was doing right before or after something life destroying happened, snapped, "Spectacular."

Godric wryly tilted up his mouth and Harry righted himself spotting the snake wrapped up along the bedpost.

Harry looked at Godric, honestly annoyed and feeling the familiar sensation of anger, "I don't usually have nice morning chats with people after they attack me- _twice_."

Godric crossed his arms, "If you expect an apology I am afraid you will be sorely disappointed."

Harry's anger rose and he gestured to the door, "You haven't killed anyone, have you? That's not why they're letting you sit here after you nearly decapitate me doing my chores, then backstab me in a corridor?"

Godric raised an eyebrow, "How else do you propose to approach a threat?"

Harry snipped, "When they're gardening minding their own business I usually say 'hello' before just trying to cut off their head straight away."

Ceridwyn popped into the doorframe with a water cup, her honey features pleasant, "I see that Godric has not yet explained himself to you,"

Harry crossed his arms, his mind jumbled from anger and pain.

Ceridwyn, entered cautiously, "You are troubled again." She held out the water glass to him.

Harry bit back another biting response and glared at the water cup. He took in a deep breath.

"Yeah," Harry took the cup.

Ceridwyn went to stand by the window sill, holding her hand out. The bird perched on her finger, and she said, "Godric-?"

Godric said grudgingly, "I will not apologise for treating you like a threat. However, my actions were… based on … untrue information." He looked to struggle. He folded his fists together.

Godric continued, "For the second attack that you claim- I did not attack _you_ in the corridor, merely a… demonic graft that I identified and now realise is a destiny tied too tightly to your life. Something that Morgan Le Fay had hoped to conceal-" Godric looked warningly at Ceridwyn who looked blatantly unrepentant "- by lessening the intensity of the truth aura."

Ceridwyn said, arms crossed, "- to protect the ward she had set on him this full moon past."

Godric stuck out his chin, "Yet you tie him here-"

Ceridwyn exclaimed, "For his sake!"

Godric snapped, "Tethered!"

Harry shouted, "Hey! What do you mean tied? I can't leave-" A prickle of ridiculousness crept up his neck as he realised he was trying to assert himself in a bed.

Harry tossed the covered off of himself and said, "I am here because I was sent here by a spell and I- well, there's just-I can't leave yet." He stood up and he looked at Ceridwyn for reassurance, who lifted the bird to fly out the window.

Godric stood up and Harry tensed ready to brawl if it came to it. "There are many ways off Avalon, though it is not often done as the strength required is..."

Godric looked at Ceridwyn and she looked unusually uneasy and whispered, "Fate-wise and god chosen."

Harry twitched a little as Ceridwyn's admission sank in, "So you mean that- what, I _could_ leave but you…" Several suspicions blossomed like mould.

"You've hid my wand, took my cloak and… you lied about me being able to leave?" Harry felt the shame of idiocy once again attack him as he grasped at several answers all at once.

His stoking anger flared and irrationally he projected, "You've known all along that I have to do this, I have to kill Voldemort and you just decided what- I was going to be a - _servant_ instead?"

Godric with one foot slid forward and his arm coiled, pointing, "Respect your teacher, boy." Godric looked conflicted for a moment and said, "Blind loyalty is not a trait to be admired, but neither is it dishonorable. It was not she that made the decision- "

Ceridwyn crossed her arms disparagingly, "Our Lady Morgana is _right_ to-"

Harry broke in, "I have something that I need to do, so if you would excuse me, I'd like to get back to that arch way where you found me and go and complete a task before I take up any more of your time arguing over me."

Godric put his hand out in front of Harry, "When I leave, you will leave."

Ceridwyn cried out, "No!"

Godric looked at Harry intensely, "Your destiny lies outside of this place," Harry pushed his arm away shouting, "Yeah!"

Godric continued, "You bear a terrible curse."

"I KNOW ALRIGHT I GET IT." Harry bellowed.

Godric roared, grabbing Harry by the shoulders, "THEN LET ME HELP YOU."

Harry was reminded on an instinctual level, just how much larger Godric was than he and his frozenness thawed as he slowly wrested away.

"People have used me as a pawn. Decided my life - and my death." Harry said in an ugly voice, "Got people killed or worse. Why should I let _you_ do the same thing?"

For a second, Harry thought that Godric would punch him.

Godric looked to be gaining control of himself before saying, "When I open a portal off the mists, you can follow me. I will not command you otherwise."

Godric swept around to exit his room and said in the doorway with his back turned. "If we must wait, then I will offer any assistance you may need while we remain in this… purgatory to prepare you to defeat this evil."

He departed. Ceridwyn rushed to the doorway and looked as if she very much wanted to shout after him. Then she looked at Harry, who was thrown by wind of galavanting off in a huff taken from him.

She began, "Harry-"

Looking for any target for his anger, Harry slashed, "Are you going to tell me where my wand went? Are you going to tell me where my cloak is or how to contact my friends?"

Her eyebrows creased, her joyful features crumpled, "Harry I can't-"

Harry thunked his hand down on the bed post, "Can't, yeah- won't, you mean."

Ceridwyn, quiet, "I _am_ sorry-"

"Just- go."

Harry turned and sat on his bed. He waited for a while before yanking his robe off the stand and wrapping it as Ceridwyn taught him. The snake lifted its head and wavered.

Harry was not in the mood for the enigmatic nature of the snake. He told it to mind it's own business. The snakes tongue flickered and if it was telling him something, Harry didn't want to hear it.

He felt eyes on him again at the scrying pool, as the sun's warmth completely vanished from the gaps between the shadows.

He opened his eyes to the dim of the forest warily. He had been trying to reach out into the pool for a few hours now, but he couldn't sense nearly any of the same notes of energy he had when Morgana had been with him.

The bobbing lights that flitted through the trees had a strange eerie glow in the misty forest.

His feet and legs were numb, he was damp but that strange sensation he sometimes got near this pool stayed.

He squinted, looking around, and then he spotted movement. A dark lump slid forward on the water's surface like silk.

Harry slowly started to ease back on his legs, realising that he was going to be slowed anyway by the cold and unfeeling state of his legs. He watched the dark mass slip upwards. Two luminous large eyes set into a long face blinked slowly.

Harry felt chills go up his spine the longer he stared, and the less he felt like he understood its shape.

It moved slightly upwards again, very slowly. Long black strands of hair floating in the water aberrantly obscured its face and form.

Harry realised that it was getting closer and held up his hand, "What- I mean wait, you just… stay over there," he tacked on, mindful of the many creatures that required politeness to be in a less-murderous mood, "-please."

It paused and rose up out of the water. A lithe human figure, with wet river reeds plastered in their hair stood upright in the pool. Its eyes were large, and unnaturally bright.

Harry swallowed heavily, his heart thudding in his chest, strangely enraptured by this creature.

"You are lonely. Like me." Their voice was melodic, and clear; but water gently seeped out of their mouth, moving as if unused to shaping words.

Harry's heart panged, keenly sensing his own loneliness. This creature must have been watching him when he had come before calling out to Hermione and Draco.

Harry experimented, "I- think I saw you...before, a while ago when I was here. You've been watching me, right?" Harry out of nervous habit, flattened his hair.

They nodded and mimicked him, moving strands away from their face, a wet slippy sound from the reeds and hair.

Harry said, "You don't have any idea how to contact people in the water, do you?"

They cocked their head and a ball of light passed over their face. Their face was finely carved, with graceful long features. Raising a thin arm and they pointed with a long finger at Harry's head.

"Tell me why you have this and I will answer."

Harry touched his messy black hair, "You mean my hair?"

They shook their head slowly, and with their spindly fingers lightly, touched their forehead. A white thunderbolt, lighting arching across the sky appeared and faded. Harry gaped, then shuddered a little and stood up, uneasy.

The creature shrank back a little and Harry lifted his hands awkwardly to try to assuage the water creature's fear. He shivered a little and weighed his options.

"It's from when I was a baby." He started carefully. He had never actually needed to explain the story of his scar before to any person, let alone a magical creature, and a swirl of emotions peppered him.

"It's a curse really. From where- well, when a wizard cast-" His voice was thick with hatred and anger. Harry watched as the creature swayed and made a soothing, encouraging sound, almost like what he thought a whale sound would be like.

Harry continued, deciding to stick with simple truths. "A wizard tried to kill me with a spell, and he failed because my mother died...for me. Well, my father, too. They were both murdered by him before he tried to kill me- and when he cast the spell it left this mark."

Harry stuttered, halted in his story. Something sat strangely in his gut and so he finished lamely, gesturing as if presenting a very underwhelming and obvious thing, "That's how I got this scar."

They said sweetly, a little water escaping their mouth, "Scar. It pleases me."

Harry fidgeted. "So, erm- will you show me how to reach my friends?"

"I know how you can contact them."

"How?"

They pointed to the sky and then to the water and drew a circle in the water. An unnatural ripple like something being dropped in the water lapped out.

Harry's confusion was evident on his face, and the creature mimed his face and ran their fingers over their eyebrows.

The strange being said, thoughtfully but with a distinct undercurrent of laughter, "You knew this."

Harry said, "You mean it's got to be a bowl, or the right moon?" Harry was nervous about appearing stupid, but couldn't risk incorrect assumptions.

A few balls of the fairy lights, dancing with each other drifted above their lovely face. They dipped their head slowly.

Faintly, a voice called out, "Harry!"

Harry stared into their bright blue eyes and felt hopeful, but he was conflicted as he heard his name being called out from beyond the forest edge. The creature swayed backwards into the water. Harry watched as their body submerged without splashing. He looked back and a warm yellow light bobbed beyond the tree line.

He looked back and the creature was back to a shifting mass of shadow, and ghost like blue eyes.

Harry said, "Wait," and thought about asking what it was but thought that would be rather rude to ask and settled for "Can I come back and visit you?"

They nodded and then burbled, "Find a leaf, then," they raised one hand. Then they sliced into its palm with a sharp nail from their other hand, and Harry cried out in shock. They hovered it over the water and let it drip. Harry breathing in greatly, thought of a good number of explicatives.

"Three. It will call me… and others."

Harry asked, ignoring the closer calling, "What's your name? How do I ask for you?"

They shook their head and faded under the water. Harry stood watching his air fog up in front of him, listening to the calls for him near.

Ceridwyn said forlornly from a few feet away, "You should come back to the castle. Our feast is delayed for you."

Harry muttered, "Don't remember asking anyone to wait or being asked to a feast."

Ceridwyn softly said, "We didn't know where you had gone again. It is ...not entirely safe here."

Harry said coldly, "You were sure I could manage when you all sent me off on chores, don't see why this is any different."

Ceridwyn lifted her lantern, using her finger to point upwards, "The moon is dark."

Harry, annoyed said, "Of course- how stupid of me, I've forgotten- the moon going dark is a sign of the world ending and all your worst nightmares coming true."

Even in this light he saw Ceridwyn pale.

Harry felt guilt gnawing at him, and had that foot scuffing feeling he got after a particularly nasty shouting match with Ron.

Harry said, "I'll go up with you."

Ceridwyn nodded and turned to leave the copse. Harry glanced back at the water before following her through the winding path.

* * *

He woke to a banging on his door in the morning dark and had to shake himself of the initial bleary-eyed thought that it was Petunia, waking him for his chores.

Harry sat up and hung his head, rubbing his eyes. The thudding knocking was strong, and purposeful- unlike the pounding in his head.

He got to the door and opened it to Godric. Godric had drank much of the honey mead that they had set out for the feast and a large portion of the other wine cask that Morgana had delightedly brought out when dancing began.

Godric looked to be unaffected and said gruffly, "I am training in the courtyard to the West."

Harry blinked and Godric turned on his heel and left.

Harry tenderly touched his head and looked at his still dim room trying to remember the dinner last night.

Harry was sullen and sour for the first part of the dinner, did not partake of the mead. It was only after a ceremony, involving welcoming the new moon and lighting candles over a reflective surface did he feel… lighter. Looser.

He was still stubbornly keeping to himself and did not even look at Morgana. However, Morgana had pressed a goblet of ruby red wine into his hands and smiled, saying, "Drink and open yourself to the New Moon."

Harry remembered drinking and then Morgana coaxed him into venting his frustrations with her and it all came pouring out.

At first it was demanding to know where his cloak was and his wand and the other things that he had. She responded simply that it was on the other side where Drysi found him. They couldn't reach it all the time because the portals opened at different times. Then, after Harry begrudgingly acknowledged that he could accept that, he told her that he should be consulted on decisions that involved him.

He hadn't watched the others reactions, but the Lady of the Isle gave a gallic shrug, her impossibly long hair slipping over bare shoulders. Her only response had been to ask soft guiding questions about when he was left out of decisions.

He ended up telling her about Dumbledore. Then, quietly about how he was shut out of decisions and treated like a child, or an instrument really, until he left with Hermione and Ron. More than a few ears leaned in close to listen.

Harry groaned and his his blushing face in his hands. He couldn't even clearly remember what he had said but he knew Bodhmall began playing a reed like instrument, like the flutes that Hagrid at given him in his first year. She played a melancholy tune at first, but then Alula began to stomp her feet and the others joined in and there was song and dance that went late into the night, past when Harry decided to stumble into his bed.

Harry pinched his nose, fighting off the strange sickness he felt.

The snake loosely wrapped its body under its chin watching him.

"I can feel you judging me."

" _Besst wrap your handss, manling."_

Harry was glad that the snake spoke, but didn't really understand what it meant. He awkwardly searched for something to keep the conversation going in the silent morning.

There was no bird song on his sill, and he suspiciously eyed the snake, trying in parseltongue, " _Bird?"_

The snake said, " _I will eat it if you wish."_

"Erm- no, thanks. I'll just- go."

Harry joined Godric in the courtyard and Godric greeted him by handing him a longsword.

Harry looked at it, and asked "Is this…what you're teaching me?"

Godric said, "I have to see where your teachers left off with you."

Harry said, "Not swords."

Godric said forcibly, "You have dueled?"

Harry defensively said, "I mean yeah, I learned how to duel but they banned dueling club and-" he levied the sword, loosely swinging it, "We never used a sword."

Godric's jaw, now covered in an array of stubble, twitched. "At Hogwarts."

Harry nodded.

"As a Gryffindor student. You have never learned to use a blade." Godric looked baffled, like he was looking at the sun uncomprehendingly.

Harry shrugged, "We used our wands."

Godric said, "You keep saying 'your' wand. A wand chose you?"

Harry said wistfully, "Yes, it was made by Ollivander and everything. Eleven inches, Holly, with Phoenix feather." He darkly thought of its brother and the Elder Wand. The Elder Wand that Malfoy had ended up nicking like the sneaky ferret bastard he was.

Godric furrowed his brows. "I see. Just as my blade came to you?"

Harry, unsure of where this was going, drew out his affirmation, "Ye-es." Harry watched Godric, who looked at his blade, shining softly as the morning dew collected on it.

Harry asked, "I saw you use your sword to cast spells. D'you think you could show me?"

Godric, abruptly switching his mood, said, "We begin with your stance."

* * *

Morgana brought them a pail of water as the sun teased sweat out of their brow and back.

He was miffed that he had barely gotten the stance and thrust correctly. Godric was drilling him repeatedly, he guessed so that his wrist and arm wouldn't shake. Harry suspected that his blade was getting heavier each time he attempted it, and no matter what he did Godric didn't seem satisfied.

Morgana watched with a secretive smile and Godric ignored her for many moments before Harry felt self conscious enough to sort of sidle up next to the water pail.

She leaned in to whisper to him, "Thirteen days. There will be an opening for our brave warriors to go through."

Harry raised his eyebrows and sloshed water over his front.

Godric crossed his arms and refused to look at Morgana. After breakfast, Harry was sent to help Alula roll river rocks up the stream.

By midday he fell asleep taking a break under a tree. He woke to Drysi lightly kicking him awake.

She tested him on plants, ruthlessly. Harry still wasn't quite sure why he needed to learn, but something had changed. He had cast without a wand and had cast silently- he doubted it was Herbology of all things, but if … communicating with trees was going to be a common occurrence he thought he should probably get to know them better.

Additionally, he really thought that salves he could make on the run would be nice. His hands still were raw and sore from both the milkweed and the blade.

After Drysi announced he was done for the day she sent him away.

Bodhmall grabbed him and in her direct way said land creatures, rather than creatures of the air would be next. He was to learn to hunt, but he needed to know the way of trees.

They were waylaid by Godric who asked Harry if he would train with him again after dinner.

He was bombarded with tasks and information. He collapsed into bed, exhausted.

Yet, he felt progress.

Godric woke him before dawn each morning. He met with acolytes throughout the day and on occasion would be sent out with Godric, who insisted he needed to stretch the horses legs on errands.

For every second of the days past he was set a task that reaped him new rewards. He had very little time to think, or to worry and was pleased at being taught something useful.

Godric had reprimanded him on the third day when he asked what part of this new stance and getting knocked backwards was about casting spells.

"Do you want to learn sword magic or not?"

Frustrated Harry said, "Yes! But I don't see what this has to do with-"

"Do you know how to wield a wand or a sword?"

Harry gritted out, "Wand."

Godric, knocking his blade up back to position with his own, "Did you understand everything that there was to understand with magic by learning the basics? I think not. Do you use the basics in your most advanced spells? I think so."

Harry tried, keeping his sword in position, "But if I just _knew-_ "

Godric slammed into him, knocking his feet out under him and Harry had to hit the ground in such a way that his sword would not fail to be in the position that Godric asked it to be.

Godric grunted, "You will know. Defense from picking up a sword was first. Falling is next."

Harry heaved, his stomach muscles and shoulders protesting. "And the attacking bit I assume is after I am dead."

Godric said, motioning for him to get up, "Then killing."

Harry, dirty and sore, didn't think too long on Godric's tone.

Harry didn't do much thinking over the next few days, but he thought of the odd watery being in the scrying pool. He wanted to visit it again, but he wasn't sure precisely of how to contact it and the 'others' that it spoke of.

He decided to bring it up to Bodhmall, who to him seemed the most apathetic to his safety and the most friendly towards the forest creatures.

Except nymphs. She disliked nymphs.

She explained that he had met a kelpie, and in no uncertain terms was he to approach it without knowing full well that it would like most to drown him.

Harry felt like he would like to go back and prove Bodhmall wrong. He thought the kelpie was lonely.

Bodhmall, catching his dissent like she caught a wiff of wolf on the wind, said flatly, "What it told you was the truth. They cannot directly lie, but neither do they tell the truth."

Harry, fletching a twig that he was to make into an arrow, pretended to concentrate on his task. Turned out learning to hunt was a lot like learning how to gather firewood and whittle, except with a lot more accidental hand cuts and talking to trees.

Bodhmall flicked him on the head and snatched the arrow out of his hands. He looked up at her, and glared.

She stuck a finger in his face, "You approach it with caution and never go without a gift. Do not tell it your true name. No more than three drops of blood."

Her ice blue eyes held his gaze, compact body tense.

Harry nodded his assent solemnly.

She flicked the arrow up, "Now, this will not even shoot the backside of a dragons arse. Show me that you can choose an arrow."

* * *

The moon steadily grew fat and full and the time of departure soon dawned on Harry, all packed, in his room.

He sat on his bed, and sighed.

He slung his satchel around him and looked at the snake.

"I suppose this is _goodbye_ then, _snake_."

The snake swayed and said, " _If manling wishess for the partnership to end, then sso mote it be."_

Harry replied, earnestly, " _This is your home._ You can't possibly like my neck as a perch more than you like your _home_."

The snake said, " _Thiss was not my home. I ssimply share your warmth and provide advice as I ssee fit."_

Harry felt flattered, but thought he should warn the snake, "I don't know what world I'll end up in, but if you want to come with me I'd be more than pleased by your company."

The snake tendriled out to Harry without hesitation, like it was deserving of the arm Harry offered.

" _Manling would get lossst and be pesstered,"_

Harry was pleased anyway and went downstairs to where many of the acolytes had lined up to give their blessings by the door. Harry politely bid farewell to the others that he had yet to work with but Morgana held his head and kissed his forehead as the first time she had met him in the Ocean temple.

She whispered, "Return. There is still so much to learn. You are so close to having wings."

She tucked a small pebble into his hand, and dragged her hand along his cheek softly.

Ceridwyn gave him a hug, Bodhmall gave him a quiver of arrows and a trap, Alula plied him with a heavy band of potions, Drysi gave him a imperious stare and told him he'd better collect his things outside of the archway.

Harry waved as he left the garden, leading Godric to the archway where Drysi had first beckoned him, near the Hawthorn.

"Right- so, you're sure this will just...let me walk right through?"

Godric held out his hand and ran his thumb along the mossy runes. A shimmer passed over the ancient etchings.

Godric looked at Harry. "It is open."

He took one last look at the rolling green hills and soft misty grasses. He looked forlornly at the forest and scrying pond, then stepped through the archway.

After a moment of dizzying distortion and the sudden shift in wind, Harry blinked. A white blanket of snow was before him and a heartbeat later, Godric charged out behind him.

Hogwarts, a little smaller than Harry remembered, lay in the valley below them glittering with ice under the sun.

* * *

AN: This chapter was difficult for many reasons. It asked many questions and the details of planning required much research.

As always, reviews are loved and cherished like the gifts they are- let me know if you spot any errors or if something didn't feel right to you and you need a bit more explanation!

This chapter marks the 100k word count! Yay! Thanks for reading so many of my words!


	14. 4: II : 13 : Orrery

**Act II: Render**

 _:_ _The reasonable man adapts himself to the world: the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man_ _:_ George Bernard Shaw

In which Draco finds that the place he once held is unfamiliar and moves differently.

 _Chapter 13 : Orrery_

* * *

Draco placed both hands on the smooth cold doors of the Manor and physically shoved them open. His mother was poised on the landing, her hand elegantly draped as if she were waiting for portraiture.

Draco's voice clearly rang out in the large foyer, "Am I a disappointment again, Mother?"

Her voice wafted down,"Only for your Father."

Draco felt a retort twitch in his chest, but decided to stride up the stairs on the last wind of his resolve.

She sighed as she murmured, "Your father has been forced to announce that you are taking over the business _before_ you perform your familial duties. He's going to have to back out at a loss over several new investments."

The sickening chill of goosebumps up his arms and a crushing weight in his stomach was a familiar sensation. He knew his mother intended to comfort him by telling him how exactly his father was moving chess pieces, and convey his value with how much it cost- but he was only thinking about the lesson that would come afterward.

He stepped onto the landing and looked at his mother, curled, coiffed and porcelain.

Narcissa lightly touched his face, a sad smile curved her delicately painted countenance. "I, however, warned him. The only thing that is happening again is that I am right."

Draco said, "Of course Mother, you were only saying what was best for our family. Why does he never listen to you?"

Narcissa puckered her lips in an attempt to smother her smile. "Draco, your manners are terrible today." She rose a single eyebrow, "You didn't forget to inform her of your decision, did you? That would be terribly insulting to a girl of her standing."

Draco knew for sure that the girl that his mother was talking to couldn't have been Hermione, and for that he was thankful. The only alternative he could bear, and had long ago accepted as not only his duty, but the only viable option for a Malfoy, was marriage to a girl of the Sacred 28.

"I will go attend to her," Thinking about how much this would cost his father, and how little capital he had left to curry favor with the powers that be, Draco added,"I will try to repair damages."

A blink, a minutiae of movement, betrayed her pleasure.

Draco stepped onto the landing to kiss his mother on her cheek and asked, "Tomorrow we should luncheon out." He missed his mother, but still could not smother the hopeless desire to cry out to her and demand an explanation of why- why had she permitted this to go on to this point? She clearly detested Voldemort, the Death Eaters.

Narcissa's face didn't wrinkle, nor curve, but her head tilted an affirmative.

He left her on the landing. His footsteps softly clicked on marble as he delved into the hallway of the west wing. His back was stiff with brittle strength, and he imperiously tried to ignore the muttering sneers from his ancestral portraits.

Draco was less and less sure that he had time to play the long game. Handling the many complications of taking over business and dealing with a delayed engagement, all while undermining the whole system which was putting him in this mess in the first place, meant there wasn't a single thread to follow.

The long game, his father drawled in his head, is only to be played when you are sure that the benefits are easily won and the cost of inaction small. Long games were for survival or complete annihilation of your opponent.

Draco paused in front of the room he remembered his mother redecorating before the Dark Lord Voldemort moved into his home and ruined everything, including the decor.

Draco raised his hand to the door, but then was set upon by second thoughts- he wasn't sure that this was the correct room. The things he didn't know started to suffocate him.

"Go away." The voice was thick, muffled by the door.

The skin on his hands felt too tight, "That would be too easy."

He could hear a wet scoff from inside, though muffled by the door.

Draco slung a self-conscious, obvious tactic at the woman behind the possibly hideous room, "Is there something I could say that would make my life more difficult and you more reasonable?"

There was a pause and then something shattered against the door.

Draco flinched, but it jarred him enough to refocus, "If you want to talk like a rational witch, I'm going to be in the- _my_ office." He nearly turned away before the same indignant urge that drove him to condemn that great, ugly oversized chicken of Hagrid's demanded he shout at her.

"I am in just as bad as a position as you are, relatively speaking- so don't go breaking more of mothers things because you're unhappy with me."

The explicatives shouted back at him were muffled, but he caught her opinion of him well enough: he was a coward, likely for running away during toasting time, he was a viperous snake, probably because she thought that he set her up for social humiliation. He didn't need to hear a facsimile of a sham 'fiancee's' opinion of him, he already had enough opinions about himself.

So, he turned and went to the office while she violently questioned his sexuality, virility, family ties and loyalties to the portrait audience who echoed her inquisition.

Either way, shame and humiliation. Either way, fear and failure. No matter what he did or would do. Draco was nearly humming a tune along with his dreadful cant beating in his head.

He flung the door to the office open, ripped papers out of files and pored over them. When the words made sense, he got the brandy and didn't bother waiting to coat the glass before downing much too much.

Malfoys were dealing in blood trades and subservience bonds. The supplier of many of the bond treatise profits was the Ministry of Magic itself- the department of Mudblood and Magic Theft Regulation, which was likely borne out of the department of Muggleborn Registration.

Memory was much stronger than willpower, so like a puppet pulled by a different master, the Draco that cast _Crucio_ again, and again on Rowle clattered up around him.

He vomited up a good bit of the bottle near the fireplace where he rested his head and tried to refocus on his decision.

He wasn't sure how many minutes or hours went by; thoughts and plans like sand under a waterfall roared in his head. He heard a house elf clean up his mess. The image of dead Dobby in Harry's arms on a beach, so very long ago, seemed fresh.

He stiltedly started, "No- I can-" he finished feebly with a self-disgusted sound.

The elf's terrified eyes blinked from around the corner of the collosal desk. "Master- Master is sick?"

Draco pinched his eyes shut, "Nothing you can do about it."

The elf put their fingers on the edge of the desk and watched him.

He stood there, treading the same dangerous thoughts as he had been when Luna suggested they eulogise: that he may as well have been the one to die. To trade places with the elf in death was inane, but bereft of future and family at a House Elf's funeral - his old Families old elf, nonetheless- , he may have found common ground with those in attendance. He was sure they would have preferred the switch.

He felt he was the one to blame, but the rational, clever, asshole side of his conscious told him that Dobby didn't die because of _him_. Dobby died a free elf. While Draco thought it was petty, Dobby had more freedom than he in the end, especially when remembering the ugly revelations between Aberforth Dumbledore and Harry.

Draco fixated upon the elf. "What- what do I call you- your name?"

"Wisp, Master, sir, Wisp is me." Wisp was still half hiding behind the desk, tiny thin fingers clutching at themselves.

Draco said, "Wisp, I am going to need a very good helper close by in the coming days- messages that need to be taken secretly. Are there any conflicting orders that you have been given that would damage the secrecy of this?"

Wisp shook their head.

"It's good that you're here then, I need you to find out-" Draco grabbed the very files of scrolls that his father had supervised him encoding.

Draco slammed the parchment lists in order and the elf scuttled backwards from the desk.

Hermione was in the back of his head, glaring at him for both scaring the elf and intending to use them as a tool. Over Dobby's reddish grave at Shell cottage, Hermione had told him about Dobby and Harry. He conceded they were living creatures who felt and dreamt, yet, he still had advocated for their use in the battle at Hogwarts. By Harry's own statements at Shell Cottage, and Dobby's role in their escape, they were too powerful not to use. Harry had spat citations for each of the fatal weaknesses that arrogance towards other creatures spawned, and _naturally_ Draco had thought to exploit this in the battle.

Draco thought Hermione was going to kiss Ron for remembering the elves before Draco abruptly inserted that they could be useful. She had glared at him then, but it was Potter who said that it was the elves choice whether they wanted to fight for the school or stay out of it.

Draco had been staring at Wisp, whom collected themselves and edged back toward him, hands open to accept whatever task their Master laid in them.

Draco tried, "Erm Wisp, I suppose I haven't been treating you very well, have I?" Not that he could remember even meeting this new Elf or acquiring it. He was becoming more mistrustful of his plan of using Wisp to ferret out information on the whereabouts of the muggleborn buyers.

"W-wisp is good, Master, Wisp doesn't think treatment is bad."

Draco looked at the unfortunate creature, all pupils and spindly limbs.

"No- Wisp. Just- bring me coffee or something," and his second thought was his promise to Potter that he would keep a water source near him. "And ensure that I have a bowl of water near me when I am alone from now on."

Wisp cocked their head, bending their ear.

As an afterthought Draco added, "-Also, perhaps, prevent the girl in the guest room from damaging too much of the Malfoy heirlooms?"

Wisp popped away and Draco set upon the paperwork once again, searching blindly for trails- he feared he would find Hermione's name printed somewhere. As he wavered between searching for a name, an object, and weaknesses, Wisp delivered coffee with cream, sugar, and teaspoons next to a small bowl of water in fine porcelain.

Dawn was a chill away when he had an epiphany.

A single pair of initials representing a buyer located in Bulgaria stood out awkwardly on the uncoded record.

Draco had this mad tug and push between his heart and stomach when he thought _V.K._ may have some one-off connection to Hermione. He recalled a jealous Ron bemoaning pathetically about Hermione's attachments to Viktor Krum. He remembered - _periwinkle dress-_ \- that Krum had even considered her precious enough to go swimming for her in the Black Lake.

He was a pure blood, a powerful wizard and one with influence- if anyone would have been able to rescue Hermione out of wizarding Britain other than Potter, it would have been Krum.

Frustrated, with his heart still clutching at him in his chest, he turned to his next task: digging up information on Voldemort. Stabbing his families version of _Alohomora_ at the drawers and doors, he threw open cabinets with his wand.

He went through a hundred scrolls but could neither find mention of Voldemort monetarily benefitting from deals, or where he may have laid his lair. He had no idea where Voldemort was and where he may have kept any object that he had to 'get back' for the Morae.

Wisp placed a rotund crystal goblet of water and Draught of Peace on his next tray of refreshments.

Draco was still staring blankly into the fireplace but said monotonously, "Wisp, just make sure I am up for lunch with mother." He glanced around and decided he'd put things back, just in case, but felt too exhausted to move.

The elf whispered, "Wisp tidies?"

Draco, too tired to think about it much, decided to take up Wisp on their offer and leaned his head back to rest in the armchair. He sighed, "Very good helper Wisp, very...good."

His eyes barely fluttered shut before he woke to heavy cloth dropping on him.

Out of some ugly survival habit, he twisted around for his wand. Faintly recognising that he was in his bed, he groped for his wand on the stand- but his hand sloshed into water.

Groaning and blinking, he separated the sounds of Wisp hissing at him from the knocking on his bedroom door. Waking up this time he felt shaky, but not that ghost like separation when he first woke up in this nightmare.

He called out, "Mother, give me two minutes."

Wisp was frantically going through the larger wardrobe he had outside his bathroom, and was gesturing to each of his cloaks.

He pulled off yesterday's formal shirt and peeled off his evening socks while staring with a blank sort of inquisitiveness at the fish bowl overtaking his bedside table. For indeed it was a fish bowl, complete with a bulbous eyed fish that still managed to look ungainly inside its natural element.

He swallowed a desire to derisively compare the lackadaisical and similar nature of the goldfish to Wisp. Instead, Draco said, "Wisp, I... this side is to have only my wand on it."

Wisp looked horrified, clutching two cloaks he hardly wore around their body under their neck.

Quickly switching from the admonishment, Draco announced, "I'll go with the green cloak," His mother always liked seeing her gifts on him.

His mood, now that he was awake enough to have one, soured. He supposed there was no point now in trying to please either of his parents. Before fourth year he wanted to be a Healer because his mother admired the position, but he assured his father that Law and taking control of the political landscape would always be a lifelong mantle.

He never really cared one way or another, he just wanted to be the perfect son and moonlight as an internationally famous, guest star Quidditch player that everyone begged to have on their team.

Draco scoffed bitterly at himself as he yanked on his clothes.

Meeting his mother downstairs she looked expectantly up at him.

"No picnic basket?" She said lightly.

Draco said, "No-no-," suddenly sinking with the thought he may have disappointed her. He offered, "I thought we might go somewhere new."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow, "Draco, how far am I walking today?"

Draco reassured her as he swept down the stairs, "Not far," though he had, at this time no clever idea where they would go.

Narcissa sighed, "Diagon Alley is so cluttered these days, Draco."

Draco didn't want to be anywhere near wizarding London or, in fact, wizarding Britain. Though, all things considered, Muggle anything was out. "Yes, I know, mother. It's much better than that."

The doors opened for them and he commented on the dismal weather to buy time, thinking that Floo was a terribly common way to travel and led to no-where properly niche.

On a mad whimsy, he decided they would apparate to one of the spots he and Ron had run into a wizarding village in Pembrokeshire, near Shell Cottage.

The real Merlins Bridge-not the one that those Muggles had propped up at a completely arbitrary location- was beyond quaint, it was pedestrian, yet it was the first thing to come to his head, likely due to the fact Harry's new mentor and guardian was Morgan Le Fay.

Regardless of Potters inexcusable good fortune, Merlin's Bridge would be a lovely scenic path to one of the nice spots he had seen.

"It's by a river mother, you'll like it, I hope. Side along grand?"

His mother looked none too happy with the idea, the corners of her mouth tucked into themselves, but she graciously aquiested by placing her hand on his forearm.

Draco pictured perfectly the area where Ron had taught him a cantrip after reminding him that he had been bollocking up the last seven years. The Apparition barely cracked he had wanted to be back so badly.

They took a leisurely stroll on the wide path by the river, silently absorbing the scenery. He knew the area to have a bit of a wizarding community, if only because the old noble houses enjoyed cottages by the sea, but it was spring, and not particularly a tourist or vacationer's paradise.

Shortly, they came to a manor that had a restaurant attache', where there were already some individuals enjoying the sunlight. Draco stood at the podium until a close lipped, harried looking witch directed them to a table by summoning two menus and settings.

Once seated, Draco couldn't help but awkwardly try to bring up the subject of Hermione while pretending to look at the menu, "I was going through...items last night, late- at my desk."

His mother perused the menu placidly.

"I was just struck by this nagging sense that I was missing something-"

She drolled, "Sleep perhaps,"

"Not _then-_ but clearly," Draco started but the witch server returned with a set of glasses hovering on a tray.

Narcissa set the menu down and looked at the witch and said without preamble, "First, an oakey Chardonnay for both of us, with your rarebit first plate. Then, I will have your daily and- Draco? The glamorgan?"

Draco waved and nodded, pleased that his mother was in a light enough mood to tease. The close lipped witch pursed her lips into an even finer line, but politely inclined her head and left them with white wine glasses.

The menus were summoned away and Draco tried again, "Granger, that girl, you recall her?"

Narcissa placed a finger on her fine cheekbone, "Hmm, I can't seem to recall…"

Draco swallowed a little heavily and wet his lips trying to phrase what would jog his mother's memory without giving him away.

Narcissa said, her tone polished, "No, I think I remember; the insufferable know-it-all with books for brains and a terrible proclivity for, what was it- grasping at useless boys who-"

"Alright, yes- okay," Draco huffed, his cheeks prickling and ears warming, "But she also-"

"Is a no-good mudblood with a ludicrous death wish like Perfect Potter?" His mother had her lips drawn together as she usually did when she was trying not to smile after her glib jabs.

Draco hurriedly parried to regain control of the conversation, "Yes, it's good to see your memory is sharp as ever."

Their wine glasses filled themselves and Narcissa, pleased to swirl it in her glass, said, "Really, Draco, this again? I told you I had done the best I could for her and we arranged the switch ourselves."

Draco's breath caught. Cheese, prosciutto, and small bits of toast with what must have been whatever rarebit was came to their table by itself, diverting attention from his lack of response.

"Bulgaria?" He fished, but after his mother narrowed her eyes, he only succeeded in stammering, "But Bulgaria only, I've just heard things about... erm- Sofia recently and wanted to know if we had a specific city- though I recommended against it for... tracking."

Narcissa sniffed her wine as he dithered.

For want of something to do, he stuck the bread in his mouth and waved the subject away.

Narcissa swirled her wine again.

Draco cleared his mouth and tried a different approach, "Was there anyone in your school days like her?"

Narcissa swung her head in an uncharacteristic way. She seemed to be taken aback at the question and unsure of how to answer. She sipped her wine and then said, "Assumably. Indeed, many like her."

Draco put a hand over his mouth and actually dug his top teeth into his lower lip to stop himself from saying that was an unreasonable generalisation. Her defense didn't leave room for him to press for details.

He looked out over the water, derailed from his conversation and trying to disentangle to-do and go-figure-out list.

As Narcissa picked at the prosciutto and rarebit, thought he saw something surface in the river. He had thought he had seen something in the river before, when he was out with Ron.

It had been a tense outing, and he really couldn't believe how he had ended up with Ron in the first place. Shell Cottage didn't have nearly enough room for everyone to fit comfortably, especially with the deranged goblin and people cornering him every chance they got.

It was Bills turn to corner him, but before the eldest Weasley started to try to weasel 'the real reason he left' out of him, they both overheard Potter (they didn't even use _muffliato_ ) talking about how they were going to double cross the manky goblin.

Bill warned them not to cross a goblin, but it was Draco who knocked sense into them. Draco wasn't just going to stand by and get questioning glares daggered at him while they bungled their way around espionage. It was obvious that they needed help being devious and sneaky, and he was forced into having plenty of practice doing that.

He suggested that if they were going to be planning a heist, (really they were too shocked, _everyone_ knew they were planning something, and after the first three days locked up with a bank goblin it was painfully obvious it was Gringotts) they needed to do reconnaissance. He would volunteer, as he knew what spells and how the Death Eaters were tracking people.

Ron didn't trust him to go off getting information alone, and letting Harry out was out of the question. Hermione, in his opinion of cursed wounds, was still recovering, and they convinced her that she was the only one that could really keep Harry out of trouble at the cottage anyway.

Potter was probably getting tangled up in some political plot, now that he thought about it. Blindly stepping in whatever shit was placed in front of him.

Ron and he had discovered that those in the Manor, those whom had let them escape, were being punished. Draco nearly went mad with the thought he had abandoned his mother and father to terrible punishment. Ron of all wizards was able to get them out and away, but not before they were nearly caught.

It was retrospectively, not a brilliant plan on Dracos part, but Ron was able to pull a magic gambit out of his arse and get them back to the Cottage.

Narcissa commentaried on the food and the wine pairing and complemented his choice in location. She admitted she was hoping for a more sophisticated palette for her main course and wondered how Draco discovered the place.

Draco said, off-handedly, "While I was out…" and trailed off, still gazing out over the river. It looked like a horse in the river, he thought with no real attention.

Their mains came and when they were nearly finished Narcissa prodded, "I think the reason you invited me out, is so that you didn't have to stay in, that much is clear."

Draco had an assurance that it was because he wanted to spend time with her under the wine in his mouth, but she cut through and added, "Also, I think there is something else going on that you are trying to do, again, against your best health and interests."

Draco shook his head, and kept quiet so he didn't entrap himself by saying anything. His mother was in rare form today and he didn't trust himself to not give out to her and beg for help.

Narcissa glared at him steadily even as the witch came back to clear their plates with a dessert and coffee trolly.

Draco requested coffee and dismissed the other options, trying to ignore that his mother was getting a dramatic tilt to her head that meant trouble.

"You can, of course, leave your mother in darkness."

Draco sipped his coffee instead of rolling his eyes.

"I won't mind, your freedom is yours to do with what you will- you are of course, the favored Master now, after all." Narcissa folded her napkin dangerously. "Clearly, I have done nothing to warrant your trust and favor."

"Guilt, mother, is- yes, well it's very effective isn't it," Draco poured cream into his coffee and watched as the tendrils laced under the surface.

There was a glint of victory in her eyes, but she sighed delicately through her nose, "Only with family, Draco dearest."

Draco doubted that severely in regards to his Father and his Grandfather both.

"Let's take a walk, shall we?" Draco put the curiosity about how to best inquire about a witch in his mother's childhood around the ages of Potters parents- however old they were- out of his head. What he should be focusing on was his task. Ways to investigate Voldemort's relics that he could return to the fates had just started to appear like a flicking through a hand of cards before the back of his neck prickled.

Draco jolted for his wand at the same time he registered that his mother's face was restored to a pleasant but aloof mask again.

He nearly whipped around, but an arm and hand on his shoulder halted him. A face he hadn't seen in what felt like years was suddenly in front of his.

Theodore Nott's smile was perfunctory, "Malfoy, so grand to see you out and about these days. What is it _exactly_ that does bring you all the way out here?"

Draco's moue of surprise softened and he tried to surreptitiously place his wand back in his sheathe up his sleeve.

Notts stringy body had smoothed, but that sharp dark intelligence in his eye was near feral. Nott released Draco and turned and bowed towards Narcissa.

"Mrs.- or do you prefer Lady? Draco always just called you Mum and I haven't been over for a proper tea in ages, though I've never forgotten your astonishing elegance." Theo was charming, unlike his great dirty bugger of a father.

Nott had bowed over his mother's proffered hand and gestured to the coffee. "About to leave half finished? Pressing business?"

Draco, uncomfortable for reasons he had yet to pinpoint, responded with the thought that perhaps Nott would be useful, "No, not since you've arrived. I'm sure we can take tea here." He looked to his mother for approval and she glanced down and then flicked her eyes back up to Nott and raised her nose up.

Nott raised his eyebrows and brought his hands together abruptly, "Ahh,"

Draco, deciding that self preservation when it came to his mother was his most pressing task proffered, "Actually, I would hate to impinge on mothers time-"

Narcissa sternly said, "Nonsense Draco, finish your coffee and I'll finish my wine. Perhaps we can order a dessert unless you haven't eaten lunch yet, Theodore?"

Theodore apparently warmed to the invitation and levitated a nearby chair, saying softly, "Certainly, certainly,"

"I am very glad that Draco has run into an old friend,"

Draco, and the person he once called Theo took their seats gingerly at the table as Nott nodded congenially.

"He's always so pressed for work- what have you been keeping yourself occupied with?"

"This and that- working on being the last Scion of Burke and Nott. Pansy, Pansy Parkinson?- Draco was very close with her, anyway- she's told me that the engagement with Miss Greengrass was going over pretty well?"

Draco always felt a bit like Nott was beating him at a competition that he didn't know he had entered, and the boy he used to share a dorm hallway with looked at him with a tight smile.

The snide school boy rose up in Draco, "Engagements before you build on your family's fortune are passe, Nott."

Nott gave a sharp laugh and said, "Oh there'll be time enough for that, won't there? Time enough for _me_ at least."

Draco returned Notts tight smile and wondered what the hell he was on about while trying to rally over the fact that he probably had a gorgeous, sacred pureblood girl in his Manor still crying over the fact that he, at best, delayed their engagement.

"Come on Draco, surely you're not sore over the fact that I've been courting Pansy, are you? Blaise assured me his judgement was sound and that you - and your parents, of course-" he gave a deft nod to Narcissa, "-were less than impressed with the Parkinson's marriage proposals."

Draco sputtered but the witch that had been their server for the afternoon came by and stiffly proffered tea to Nott, then hurried away.

Narcissa swirled her wine and said, "The Parkinsons are fine enough people, as you know."

Draco hadn't known his parents entertained discussions regarding this issue but he huffed and looked out over the river. 'Fine people' he knew was her talking about their blood standing.

"Ah yes, well- Pansy prefers a more romantic courtship, regardless. Especially with how many political marriages are taking place- those… _bonds_." Theo gritted out.

Theo was never quite swayed by any of the more medieval ideas though he was strongly in favor of power, and Blaise was never really _impressed_ with anything. It was odd that they were speaking when he knew both of them were outsiders- or rather lone wolves- by choice in their school days.

However, they did seem the type to have the odd alliance, though he rarely understood their motives.

He doubted very much that Theodore Nott would make a good ally- he was far too interested in pursuing his own goals, and had always been too comfortable announcing he had a difference of opinion with his father. Though Theo was never stupid enough to question Voldemort directly, he always found plenty of ways to express his hatred for the Dark Lord.

The conversation was trivial and bordered on drab. Narcissa expressed her desire to move on from the tea and Nott stayed with them until they had the bill sent to the Malfoy account.

Nott grabbed Draco by the shoulder and excused them from Narcissa who he encouraged to walk ahead.

Theo locked his gaze to Draco's. "Draco, what have you really been up to?"

Draco thought of his Occlumency walls and shrugged them on. He wasn't taking any chances.

"What are you expecting me to say, Nott?"

Nott scowled, making his already sort of rabbity features more pronounced. Draco straightened his lapel and secured the fold of his cloak over his arm.

"Draco, I-..." Nott sucked on his teeth and released Draco. "I have been working on some surveillance let's say."

Draco felt his fear but didn't let it go to his head, he'd had enough surprises,

"You're going to have to be clearer Nott-and also since when did you and Blaise have friendly reunions?"

"Since we need things from one another."

"That doesn't seem likely."

Nott reached out and gripped Dracos elbow, and Draco, surprising himself, had his wand pointed at Notts stomach.

"Take a good close look Malfoy- I am deadly serious. Do not go near this river, in fact, do not come back here again."

Draco was getting more confused, and more angry because of his confusion.

He started, "I'm not exactly the recreational swimmer-"

Nott continued to squeeze his elbow painfully, and Draco jabbed his wand in deeper, though Nott seemed to be puffed up on some smarmy one-upmanship and warned him, "Don't play dumb. And whatever hare-brained scheme you've cooked up to save your sorry, cowardly hide from your fucking shit lord? You reek of temporal decay, you're ripe, stinking of it and it's bleeding out into my ' _surveillance'_ so get your shit together before you rip yourself and everything around you apart."

Draco yanked himself away and stared at Nott.

Nott jerked his chin up in a nod, and glared at him.

Draco can't say that the passionate derision from Nott didn't twinge, but his Occlumency barriers were keeping things in check, "Interesting."

Nott flicked his eyes upward in a quick roll.

Draco slowly put his wand back and said, "I don't usually let people get away with threatening me."

Nott raised his eyebrow and snarked, "No, you just let girls punch you in the mouth and torture bound up sycophants when your masters around."

Draco bit his bottom lip and pointed his finger at Nott, "Yes, yes, you're right. You've won, but you, unlike me, have given extraordinarily large bits of information to me. I, unlike you, have learned far more than you have. I was going to be nice and share but I think I'll just- remind Pansy of a few things."

Darco backed away for a few steps as Nott lifted up his lip in a flabbergasted sneer, and caught up with his mother.

She was staring at the river while her robe and gown fluttered in the breeze.

Draco followed her gaze and saw nothing except for a slow moving bend.

She said, "I didn't realise that you and Theodore were not on good terms."

Draco replied, "He's always been bit of a …well, he's always been intense, and too clever for his own good."

Narcissa looked at him with a single raised eyebrow like she was laughing at him.

"Mother, I hate to go but I have to go- do some work today. At the Ministry." Draco felt lightened and also felt like he had a new direction to latch onto.

She turned back to the river and her face smoothed back, "Yes, I understand. It was lovely. Good luck at work Draco darling. I'll return home unescorted, I think."

He kissed her on the cheek and she popped out of the air.

He looked back once more at the water and could have sworn he saw a lump moving against the current.

He turned on his heel and Apparated.

* * *

 **Author meta notes:** I have not read nor had I seen the Cursed Child, and while there may be something in there regarding Nott, please do not use the Cursed Child as some sort of foreshadowing.

 **Updated for minor edits 2/14**


	15. 1: II : 14 : Occhiolism

**Act II: Render**

 _:And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul:_ John Muir

In which Hermione cannot see the trees for the forest, and therefore begins to realise the extent of her blindness.

 _Chapter 14: Occhiolism_

* * *

Hermione left Lugaid at the Entrance Hall, an awkward nod from each marked their departure.

Hermione moved slower than her usual pace of marching back to the Gryffindor dormitory, but her thoughts were realigning calendar check points, orchestrating her next tasks, and filtering in the new information from Lugaid, Kage, and Harry.

Small talk had been a conversation of delicate parries and outlier questions to test information not on subject. Despite his interest in her tutelage, he clearly wanted to keep his personal life beyond her.

Lugaid told her that he would arrange for another meeting, but meanwhile it would be Sundays for Magical Theory, which he suggested could be used for guided independent practice. She wasn't sure what Lugaid learned from their chat, but she had a suspicion that her Professor was active in the rising conflict.

Hermione slid her hands up the stone banister and absently hopped from the top of the stair to the landing. Lugaid seemed to genuinely want to help, but she distrusted his eagerness he shared with the other charismatic wizard she had encountered. She still didn't know what she was going to write to the Lord Black.

As she approached the Gryffindor Commons, she was increasingly unsure of what to reveal to Lily.

Hermione paused outside of the portrait, her fingertips resting on the lacquered frame.

Crookshanks crawled down from her bag and plopped onto the floor, looking up at her expectantly.

The Fat Lady prompted, "Password?"

Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to open the door, and the woman in the portrait peered at her with her arms crossed.

"Did you forget the password?"

Hermione, only mildly irritated about having to break her attention away from her thoughts, said "No."

"What are you standing around here for, then? Say the password!"

The portrait of the Fat Lady swung into Hermione's face.

"Oh! Hermione! You're back- did you forget the password?" Remus asked with Lily behind him.

"No!"

"We got your message! We were going to go down to the Great Hall! C'mere and tell us!" Lily dragged back.

Hermione sighed and lifted her leg up to the Just High Enough to be Irritating level of the portrait hole.

She told the Fat Lady, as she waited for Crookshanks to pass into the Common Room, "Next time I should like to think that anyone seeking to get in would have a little more trouble." Then, shut the portrait.

"Really, I think we should talk-" but privacy was immediately whisked away when she saw Potter, Pettigrew, and Black; clumped co-conspirators waiting for a conspiracy.

Potter said, "Evansies, you're just full of surprises."

Lily shot Potter a glare but quickly grabbed Hermione's hand, "Hogsmeade?"

Hermione felt a flash of steel, "There's nothing exciting- I'm taking remedial lessons with Professor Lugaid." It was the truth she carved and cut for them. For now.

"Lugaid?" Potter and Remus at the same time.

"Oi you lot-" a tall fourth year, swathed in his cloak, hat and scarf rushed by them,"Dodgy layabouts." He was gone in a rush.

"Prewett's just sore because his brother's Fab." Potter said smugly, and Black nudged him to let him know he thought it was still funny.

Remus looked concerned, "Professor Lugaid doesn't even teach any of our classes… what's remedial about it?"

Hermione gritted out, "Magical Theory,"

Remus looked offended and Lily looked like she was going to cry.

Hermione had a strange sensation of wanting to immediately hug her and awkwardly pat her on the shoulder, so she sort of leaned in for a brisk hug.

"It's fine- look, I have a lot to get started on so," She moved towards the girls dormitory.

Lily cried out, "No! This is totally bogue!"

Potter mouthed the word and raised his eyebrows at Black, and Peter offered, "It's not right, real fake like."

Hermione sighed and said, "Alright, I'll just put down my bag and we can go chat about it or something but I'd really rather this not go on in the Common Room."

"Let's go down to the Lake, there's Quidditch practice happening and I want to be down in time to watch." Potter went to the portrait.

Lily rounded on him, "You weren't even invited, you eavesdropper."

Black tsked, "Harsh, that."

Potter shrugged, "True though."

Lily scurried up after Hermione, the hushed whisper she was fond of using to keep Petunia out of their business betrayed her worry, "What are we going to tell Mum and Da? They're not going to kick you out of Hogwarts are they?"

Hermione remembered what she had said to Ron and Harry as an eleven year old and scoffed. "No, I have been working on a few things, and Lugaid's going to be personally tutoring me. I will do this Lily, I promise. It's just going to take time."

Lily worried her lip while Hermione set her enormously heavy load down. Now free from the weight of her bag, she felt like she didn't want to trade one burden for another.

Crookshanks was already curled up on the pillow, content from the meat at the late brunch. Hermione scratched him behind the soft fuzz of his ear and he began to purr.

"Hermione, I'm… really worried." The dim just before the early sunset made Lily's eyes shimmer brightly.

Hermione swiped the mandrake leaf down across her lower teeth resolutely.

Lily burst out, "You're acting really strangely, like you're not even my sister anymore. I never see you, you haven't told me anything. You totally lost it in the Hallway with Peeves, and that's not you!"

Blood rushed to Hermione's head, her stomach dropped and her throat tightened, "Lily, I have a room to show you and a secret to swear you by before dinner."

Lily threw herself around Hermione in a huge hug.

"Oof," Hermione took her arms and looked at her seriously, "No boys in on this yet,"

Lily bobbed her head up and down, "Does Severus count?"

Hermione abruptly swung her head to the side, and cocked an eyebrow, "Yyyes." She gathered minimal supplies for a letter. "Just-Lily, no one else."

After Lily assured her sister of her own secret keeping abilities, she led her past Remus who was waiting at the bottom of the staircase. Hermione made the mistake of looking back at him. She rolled her eyes and heaved Remus along with them. "Alright, come on then."

She wasn't sure if she was muttering reassurances to herself out loud on the way up.

She had them stand back when pacing for her study room, having learned her lesson from when Black and Potter changed things, and then called them over.

Hermione braced herself, and quickly had them dart into her workspace.

Remus, interest alight in his eyes, said, "This- is- phenomenal. I wonder if there's a map of Hogwarts in _Hogwarts, a History_? There's so many things that surprise me."

"Each founder, save Helga, thought of the school as a castle first- no map was to ever be made." Hermione quoted from _Hogwarts_ , _A History_.

He was immediately drawn to the worktable space in the far back, past the comfortable corner with the tea table of oddities, where Lily bounded over to immediately.

"It's the same as being unable to Apparate on Hogwarts grounds. Something to do with the ley lines." Hermione awkwardly stood in her sanctum as they explored.

Lily squealed in pleasure multiple times, pointing in curiosity and wonder, "Oh wow, I feel so _serious_ ," and held up a gold implement by the fireside, "I like this."

After their amazement wore off, they sat down and Hermione explained, "Professor Lugaid is supposed to be teaching me Magical Theory; which he _is_ providing excellent theoretical advice, but he has… acquired a teacher outside of Hogwarts."

Remus looked suitably intrigued and worried, and Lily pressed her, "What like a tutor? For what- isn't he supposed to be the one tutoring you?"

"It's to improve my _application_ of magic, not theory."

She teetered on deciding whether to share that Kage would actually be instructing her in a discipline foreign to Hogwarts and in the pause, Remus went back to, "But Hermione, how did you even find this place? Are you sure it's not some other teachers study?"

"Well," Hermione leaned to the truth, "A friend told me. It'll change based on what you need, but you need to focus quite on your requirement."

"Friend?" Lily pressed.

"Requirement?" Remus inquired.

Hermione, flustered, said, "I've a good deal of homework to start on, so it's best that I start now."

Lily, indignant, "Hermione, I can't even tell Sev," she raised her eyebrows demandingly.

Remus looked back and forth, "This is a secret?"

Hermione sighed, and said, "It's just that I would like this to stay quiet, and Professor Lugaid has stuck out his wand on this one."

Remus solemnly nodded, "I understand."

Hermione softened and looked at Remus, "Thanks, Remus. But you both should know, both Black and Potter stuck their noses into my business and know about this room, too."

Lily looked upset but Remus recalled, "They were arguing about whether or not you were really going to take a bath."

"What!?" Lily becoming more annoyed at being ignored, waved her hand in front of Remus and Hermione. "What are you doing sneaking off at night Hermione! It's like you're not even worried about getting expelled!"

"I go early in the morning, past three. It's the time least likely for students to be out of bed, and there's no Prefect patrols scheduled at that time." Remus looked at Hermione anew, and Lily's jaw dropped.

"Additionally, the professors who do wake up early tend to be sleeping just before five. Then, I leave in time for breakfast. I am not in any danger of being discovered, except by maybe Peeves." Hermione's trapezius muscle involuntarily twitched.

Remus jumped up, "I want to help- what's first?" He went over to the book shelf above the desk and peered at the titles.

Hermione waved her hands up nervously, trying to shoo him away before she even stood up.

"It's not that, it's more like-"

Remus said, "Focus practices? Interesting, this looks like it pre-dates wand magic."

Hermione stared at Remus cradling _Wild Magic_ in his hands.

Lily was watching Hermione and said, "I am going to tell Sev."

Hermione exclaimed, "No! And What? No, Lily, I am serious."

Remus didn't look up from the book and said, "What- to what?"

Hermione flung out, "Meditation- and Lily, _yes,_ I will actually be cross with you- how did you know about focus practices? Lily! If you do it anyway and tell him to keep it a secret I will find out."

Remus set down the book lovingly at her reading desk and trailed his fingers along the bookshelf.

Lily stubbornly crossed her arms.

Hermione said, "Severus is a little close to the Slytherin group right now, and this room is ah- well it's a little too useful."

Lily rolled her eyes, "Uggh fine. We've been bothered loads and can't be seen studying together anymore. I thought you could _share_ and this would solve problems, but I guess not." She stood up and changed the subject with affectation, "So, what's this hippy nonsense about meditation?"

Remus furrowed his brows and just as quickly raised them, "It's focusing, feeling magic rather than controlling it. It's not hippy nonsense, my father was trying to … help me."

Hermione was suspicious of both of them at the moment.

Lily asked, "Is that why you're so good at magic?"

Remus pinked and quickly put the book he was looking back at on the shelf. "I-I wouldn't say that."

"I was told to focus, you're right." Hermione thought that perhaps Remus had gotten some training beyond meditation prior to Hogwarts education.

Remus nodded quite seriously, "Too bad there's no centaurs 'round."

"Why?" Lily was uninterestedly exploring the room.

"They're real in tune with their magic, and they're supposed to be wise seeing what problem wizards are making for difficult spells with old magic. Trick is you have to prove you're worthy of being taught though, at least according to my Dad."

Hermione was quiet, remembering Kage's advice to find an 'Old Teacher.'

Lily said, "Remus, you really know a lot. From your Dad?"

"He's a- well, it's his job. To know. He works for the Ministry."

Hermione, sensing a sore topic abruptly asked, "Do you recognize the language?"

Remus shrugged, "Not sure, it's really old though. What do you need it for anyway?"

Hermione nibbled her lip and then said, glancing at her sister who was watching, "You know how, well, I've had a bit of trouble… keeping up in class."

Remus raised his eyebrows, "Not with homework! Or questions or anything. You explained that question James had about Transfiguration last week and McGonagall gave him outstanding feedback."

Lily said, "Magic doesn't work properly for her now that she has a wand."

It still stung. Not for the first time, she cringed as she recalled her first Charms lesson with Lily.

"That's not true, you're great in Potions, and I've seen you do loads of stuff."

Smiling gently, Hermione said, "Yes, but not well, for long or very quickly." Hermione picked up _Wild Magic_ and the leather cover whispered over her fingertips _._

"You know, I think I'll be outside reading, and... meditating." Hermione said, thinking of centaurs.

"Don't skip dinner again." Lily warned.

Hermione sighed and said, "No, I won't."

* * *

But Hermione did skip dinner.

She had gathered her cloak and taken the heavy tome out onto the grounds. She picked a spot fairly near the forest, by Hagrid's hut.

She began to meditate, she found the process to be jarring. And so, feeling many different emotions, stood up and shook herself, only to spot Hagrid with Sir Ivan.

She pressed the mossy mandrake leaf under her tongue and resigned herself to the eventful day.

"If it isn't lil' Miss Hermione Evans- what'er you doin' all the way out here?" Hagrid's voice boomed delightedly.

Ivan placed his hands behind his back, and just as he had the first time she had seen him, said very near to her while he was still far, "It's near dark, little witch."

It clicked why Sir Ivan had taken an interest in her success with the broom.

"I was actually hoping to ask you a question, Hagrid."

"O' yer too kind- what could I answer for ya?" Hagrid laughed and she could see his eyes crinkle behind his beard.

Hermione gathered up _Wild Magic_ and crossed her arms over the book protectively, "I was actually hoping maybe I could have tea with you before dinner?"

Sir Ivan inclined his head forward, and with his hand gestures that Hermione now recognized as signing, "I would suggest that it's a bit too close to dinner for a tea, Miss Evans."

"Aren't you going up to the castle for dinner anyway, Hagrid? I think that if it's an academic question, time should allow for it."

"Now, Miss Hermione, I wouldn'ter thought I'd be summat fer you to look fer answers from." Hagrid tugged on an earlobe in some discomfort.

"Nonsense-" Hermione cut off further retorts, "I have a question about the Forest, and who is better qualified?"

Sir Ivan ran a fingernail just above his sharp, flat mustache.

Hermione started to bluntly meet his clear eyes, but then realised that what little she did know about Occlumency was nowhere near powerful enough for what she conjectured was a practiced mental projectionist.

She instead looked as pleading as she could at Hagrid, and ignored Sir Ivan.

"Very well," Sir Ivan's voice was like a flick in her forehead. He turned and made a low and curt bow to Hagrid. "Thank you again for your help in the equipment management of Quidditch, Rubeus."

"Not't all, Sir Ivan."

Hermione watched as Ivan sharply turned on his heel and near marched back up the hill.

"Lovely fellow, Sir Ivan," Hagrid told Hermione, "Always thanks me and accompanies me back to me hut."

"Why?"

"Summat left over from the War, I suppose."

Hermione followed Hagrid into his hut, her feet heavy as she realised there would always be something left over from War.

Hagrid bustled around for the kettle. "Now, what'd ya be needin' me fer?"

Hermione, taking her seat in an Hagrid sized chair, said, "Well actually, I'd like to accompany you from time to time just to learn more about the forest, Hagrid."

Hagrid looked over at her gobsmacked, "Now Miss Hermione! The forest is forbidden to all students."

Hermione pertly, "Not if they have detention."

"D'you have detention?" Hagrid said amazed, sitting down next to the kettle, stoking the fire.

"No," _not yet_ , anyway, she thought.

"Well, we'd have to be getting Dumbledore's permission and all that, but I don't see no harm to it."

Hermione brushed the mossy mandrake leaf in her mouth impatiently, she should have seen that coming. There was a good deal happening today, so she didn't think much on it. In fact she was getting a little overwhelmed.

"I was actually hoping to perhaps see centaurs Hagrid. You see-" she prepared to be hard on herself later, "I've had a bit of trouble with my magic, and- fitting in," and tears that she hadn't intended to surface came to the corner of her eyes, too quickly for comfort.

Hagrid's face drew together in concern. "Aw- now yer ought not ter cry- they'd be foolish to not see what a polite and clever witch you are!"

"I was hoping, that perhaps I could find a centaur. I heard they're skilled in tutoring old magic and I thought maybe they could help me with mine." Also, she needed to find ingredients she needed for her animagus process.

Hagrid's bushy eyebrows rose and fell and made all manner of expressions that she couldn't see clearly because of the hair, but he was quiet til the kettle cried and after he poured the tea.

Hermione, still feeling fragile from her earlier attempt at meditation, was wondering if she should have even tried Hagrid. Afterall, it was only because of Harry that they had been friends.

"You know what- I think I can help you out Miss Hermione. By the end of the week."

"Thank you, Mr. Hagrid."

"Now, you best be gettin up ter the castle for dinner. Run along quick like before you're late!" The early dusk now set into its final hour, Hermione looked out the window and into the long shadows of the trees.

"Hagrid, aren't you coming to dinner?" Hermione for the first time questioned what transpired during dinner- admittedly her attention was poor beyond her nose or she was in her room during dinner.

"Ah, I'm just the Groundskeeper, yer fine. Goan." Hagrid stood up and shuffled her and her protests out his hut.

She headed up to the castle, the tome in front of her like a shield. Her cloak was offering meager protection in the dusk, and the chill that came over the Black Lake was misty. Her thoughts were

She shivered. The ink of night sighed over the surface of the lake, and a reflection of a star pinned her focus.

The susurrous of the tree by the Lake was deafening.

Hermione felt her feet slow over the hushed grass. Water lapped over the lake's small tide and the mist kissed the lake surface. The moon, not full or empty, breathed ethereal light, igniting the Lake.

A spot of cold pressed through her forehead, like a phantom finger and the weight of the book seemed to anchor her drifting body.

Hermione's head was filled with water and her eyes saw the stars in an ocean.

* * *

Hermione was in the desert.

Harry was finally standing but she could feel his weight.

Draco glowed in the sun, his face grimacing in the splitting light, silver eyes squinting, bleached of color down to his knuckles.

The sky spun; a woman's face faced her. She smiled, fangs flashed in her bronze face.

"Unique until known, finite after infinite, singular and because of plurality, not alone but the loneliest be, neither there nor here and here to be." The voice was her own, and more.

Molten irises mirrored the sun, and Hermione licked her dry bloodied lips.

Harry's eyes were closed, leaning heavily on a pillar. He slid as sand piled at his feet, and branches like fingers and hands cradled him through the other side of the pillar.

Feathers of mahogany and turquoise, far bigger than any that Fawkes had brushed against her cheek, stretched and trailed over the pillars they guarded.

The library was beyond, a mirage until they passed the gates. She closed her eyes.

Paws padded silently along the path, and the hot breath breathed in her ear, "Hermione."

The call or reminder, echoed in her head. She opened her eyes to see Harry fall through a rectangular portal and Draco turn to sand.

The ground under her feet moved like water, and as the grains poured around her shoes she knew the answer even as the heat baked into her skin.

* * *

She woke up, breathing as if she had been underwater.

A hand drew her back, and her stomach lurched. In a distorted echo, she heard, "Evans, what the bloody-" Potter's face overtook and faded.

"Hermione!" Black and Potter hovered over her.

She swallowed, "Where-what-"

"We got caught up with some Slytherins," Potter started.

"We recognised you and walked toward you, but you were not moving. Then, you went forward..."

Hermione felt around and her fingers felt the leather of _Wild Magic_.

Black whipped his head around and pounced on the book, and using his sleeves, yanked the book away from her.

There was a brief struggle as Hermione tried to fumble it back into her possession while Potter rolled back from his haunches.

Hermione and Sirius stared, confused.

Potter said, "Well, let's just get you back up to the common room before we get caught out."

Sirius, tightly, "Yes, can you stand?"

Hermione nodded, trying to get up, "I think so."

Potter grumbled, "I wish I at least had my broom- _Leviosa_ isn't exactly…"

Hermione shook her head, feeling waterlogged though only the bottom of her robes were wet.

Sirius awkwardly positioned himself to help her up but then shuffled back.

Avoiding the Great Hall, they doubled back around from the Lake and took the long way up from the owlery, which Hermione had suggested.

Hermione, feeling too light to realise that Potter and Black already knew the passageway she had remembered from the Mauraders Map, went along to the Gryffindor common room.

The portrait of the Fat Lady was already lecturing, "Why am I not surprised to see you again? Do _you_ remember the password because I doubt anyone is going to open this door past curfew, except _you three._ "

"Stuff your-" Potter started, but Black cut in, "Stuff we're doing is very important, we do so apologise for your inconvenience, we know you're a lady of a proper society."

The Fat Lady snapped a fan she had laying around open, "Hm, yes- password?"

Hermione snapped, " _Mirabile_ _dictu,_ "

The Fat Lady fanned herself, and her portrait loosened. Potter wrenched it open and Hermione clambered through while Black said, "Thank you, Lady… what is your name?"

The Lady peeked at him behind her fan, "Naughty boy, address me by my title."

A few fourth years were writing end of term essays and curiously looked up.

Potter righted himself and shucked his robe right, "Alright Pre _wet_ ts?"

"Sod off Potter-" A red head boy said with disgust as he turned back to this essay. Another boy with longer floppy red hair added, "I'd say go stuff yourself but it looks like you've already been done in."

Black straightened and Hermione tugged on his sleeve, "Give it back now,"

Potter turned around, suddenly more interested in whatever was going on between the two of them.

There was a wavering mewl as a fluff ball barreled down the stairs, and from the landing that overlooked the common room from the girls dormitory there was an irritated, "Crookshanks!"

Crookshanks rammed his tiny head into Hermione's shins and rubbed his body along her ankles, and Hermione looked warningly at Black.

"Hermione!" Lily ran down the stairs, "You promised you wouldn't miss dinner again!"

"Excuse me, could you yell somewhere else, please?" Exasperated, the floppy red headed boy insincerely smiled at Lily.

Lily sweetly bit back, "Excuse me, concentrate on your homework, please?"

Sirius shuffled his sleeves over where _Wild Magic_ was tucked under his arm and moved towards the fireplace.

Hermione stomped over to him and said, "Give me back my book."

Black sighed as he leaned back and propped himself up on the leg of the fireplace and placed the book on his legs.

Lily cut in, "Hermione Rose, where were you? You said you would come back for dinner, Remus and I were worried. And you-" she rounded on Potter.

Potter wasn't so intimidated to step back but his chin dipped low and he spun around to sit on the cosy couch.

Lily, arm akimbo, added, "Remus was worried about you both as well, and I told him you were just probably getting in trouble."

"Oh, well then I'll just run up and tell him that I was rescuing the - did you say Rose?- Rose here from a watery death." Potter hopped back up and ran up the stairs.

Hermione hissed, "I wasn't going to _die_." Though, unease swirled like sand in her gut. Ignoring it, she ordered, "Black- give me the book, I won't ask again."

"It's not your book, it's too old." Sirius examined the spine and tipped the book open.

Hermione was about to snarl at him but then Lily scoffed, "The library, genius."

Hermione picked up Crookshanks, reminding her with his needle claws that he was still there, and shot a half smile at Lily.

Lily raised her eyebrows at Hermione and crossed her arms before sitting down on the couch.

Hermione pursed her lips and took her usual spot with Crookshanks on her lap, deciding to not engage with a childish tug of war.

"Library?" Black immediately opened the book and flipped through the pages interestedly.

"Old books can be dangerous, but you knew that-" Hermione rubbed Crooks head watching Black.

Black's face was slack as he rolled his eyes and Lily looked interested if pouty.

Hermione said, "Do you recognise it?"

Sirius tilted his head back, "No, I did not recognise it- it is why I was careful." He flipped though a few pages and said, "You can read this without a translation key?"

Potter and Remus came down the stairs while Hermione gripped the sides of the armchair.

"I couldn't have possibly overlooked a translation... _key."_ Hermione said definitively.

Remus looked relieved, "James told me that you guys were put in the Quidditch locker-"

"Who did that?" Lily said, aghast.

"A translation key. I haven't- _heard_ of before _._ " Hermione insisted.

Sirius looked confused and turned towards Hermione, "Don't imagine you would. Our textbooks are translated for us, aren't they?"

"But at least someone would have mentioned it or I could have read it before in- well any of the books that I may have read since coming here." Hermione quickly covered, and stood up.

Crookshanks swiped his bottlebrush tail and stalked over to the fire to clean himself.

Sirius shifted. "No, I don't think many families write them down."

"Mine doesn't and we only have the one book." Potter piped in and sat next to Remus.

"Who would have a key for old english? Or this book?" Hermione pointed, intent.

Lily tossed her hands up as she looked incredulously at her twin, "Why are you mad about this book, you've just been told that Potter and Black were stuffed in a locker." She looked uncomfortable and in a quieter tone, "I thought that sort of stuff doesn't happen to wizards."

Black and Potter looked sheepish but Potter asked, "What, muggles get tossered into lockers all the time?"

Remus said, "Or chased on bicycles, or their heads shoved in the loo."

Black looked disgusted.

"Guess you have to get creative if you can't cast magic." Potter scanned Remus.

Hermione sucked on the mandrake moss and came over to Black. "Where could I get a translation key?"

Sirius snapped the book shut and put his hands behind his neck, shrugging.

Hermione reached for the book on his lap and Sirius startled back. Hermione glared at him as she snatched the book and stood up.

"I'm tired. It's been an exceedingly long day. I still have a-" she pressed her lips together to prevent the casual swear, "- _letter_ to send off as well."

Lily's face snapped into disbelieving anger, "Why did you miss dinner?! You can't keep-"

"Oi- you rotten ickle firsties- keep it down."

"Shove off, Fab." Potter tossed back without turning around and Hermione heard the 'fop' pun that was lost on her earlier.

Despite the assuredly onerous sleep she had ahead of her, Hermione decided to end the evening and tiredly chose an explanation for her sister, "I went to have tea with Hagrid and time got away from me after I was...doing my homework I told you about."

Hermione turned to the dorm, and saw Peter slowly moving from the boys stairs. She passed him without a word and started up the stairs. She surreptitiously glanced back at Lily who was sharing a knowing look with Remus.

Hermione took the papers she had intended to use to write to Alphard out of her cloak before she readied for bed, mumbling hello to the other girls and drawing the curtains closed.

She heard Lily come in and the other girls ask if Hermione was upset. The murmuring and short whispers of the girls faded into the background as she focused on composing the letter.

Hermione sighed. She pulled a book she kept by her pillow and a pen by her small window shelf to write. She pushed back the curtain to allow the light of the quarter moon into her cocooned bed.

She rested her head against the cushioned headboard, eyelids heavy. Crookshanks wiggled through the heavy velvet and put his little weight on her stomach. She pat him and readied herself to use the last of her energy.

 _To Lord Alphard Black,_

 _I believe that there are certain pieces of information that we can provide one another with. The exchange of information must be clear and adhere to a set of rules._

 _I cannot lie, I am at a disadvantage. Therefore, in the interest of respecting the boundaries of what I am both able and willing to furnish:_

Hermione paused. Her wording should be careful not to reveal things that he hadn't planned to ask her.

 _Do not provide answers to my questions that you expect certain payment for without permission._

 _Ask questions of me and I will acknowledge which questions I can provide completely honestly, and which I cannot, and which will cost more trust than I currently place in you. Likewise, I would expect the same from you._

 _I would prefer to move forward with a professional relationship that we can build on through honesty._

 _Hopeful regards,_

 _Hermione R. G_

Hermione paused, looking at the G. She easily turned it into a profound E and left it at that.

* * *

The moon swelled in the weeks passing.

Hermione added meditation to her daily routine for two days. Uncomfortable and ricocheting from uncertainty, she turned to her wandless and wanded exercises. But her results fluctuated wildly, and she became disheartened enough to ask Remus for help before giving them entirely.

She pulled him aside, "Remus, could you outline the focus practices that your father-"

Remus flustered, "I- I am not sure that'll- they were specifically, I mean- they're all very different."

Hermione crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "Remus, can you just tell me the general idea? There's not a good deal of information that isn't filled with Divination drivel."

Remus adjusted his bag and gave a nervous smile to Maisy, whom passed by with a curious smile.

"Remus, if you don't want to say that's fine-"

"No, no it's- just… I'll write something up for you and then if you have questions I'll try to explain."

Hermione nodded, spotting Peter peering around the corner, "Acceptable."

When Remus finally slipped her the paper, it was after he had asked to borrow her notes for History of Magic in the morning, when she had finally received a reply from Lord Alphard Black.

 _Dear Miss Hermione,_

 _Please reassure my nephew that I haven't sent you any deadly books and consider it an advance goodwill for your first question_ _v_ _favor._

 _I appreciate your caution and candor,_

 _Charmed,_

 _L. Alphard B._

Sirius received his own letter, delivered by the same magnificent owl that had sent him the paper and letters, and tried to be subtle looking over at Hermione. She couldn't help but to feel condescended to by Lord Black and she doubted her expression was neutral.

Hermione tucked both the outline that Remus gave her, and the letter, safely in her notebook.

Hagrid approached her Friday, while she was failing to meditate on the grounds near his hut. She was pleased to be interrupted.

"A wee nippy to nap outdoors!" Hagrid hailed.

Hermione jumped up and dusted herself off, and re-adjusted her scarf, "Hagrid, lovely to see you."

"Up for a bit of a walk? I was jus' about ter come look fer ya."

"Yes, of course!" Hermione gathered her bag and was thankful that she had stolen a spare phial from Potions class. She had brought some tomes, as well as her notebook, and regretted only that she would probably develop a headache from it digging into her shoulder.

Hagrid beamed and rocked on his heels, "Good, good- I told Professor Dumbledore and he thinks it's good idea for you to get outside a bit and enjoy- maybe find a knack -that you're good at."

Hermione stopped scribbling the time of day and which direction of the forest they were entering according to their position, "What- did he say that?"

Hagrid shrugged and shifted his crossbow and satchel around, "Hmm? Oh- he just wants the best for all his students."

Muttering, "I'm sure he does," Hermione scurried after Hagrid, then asked, "Are we walking very far to the centaurs?"

"Ah- not much. I let 'em know after Dumbledore said it was a good interest outside of class and since they're suspicious closed bas- erm, peoples."

She looked up at Hagrid, her heart full, and he brightly returned, "I've taken the liberty of bringing a gift fer them."

"Thank you Hagrid, I didn't know-"

"Of course not- watch that root there," Hagrid said.

They walked for a few minutes, and Hermione asked questions that she had mixed feelings but needed to know the answers to- like which part of the forest got the least sunlight.

Hagrid finally set down his bag on a small ridge in a clearing and pulled out a small pouch, "Some berries?"

"Yes, thank you. Is this where we meet the herd?" Hermione took a fat blackberry from Hagrid.

Hagrid made a sound like he was blown away by the very idea, "Herd here is wary as any other herd of wizards. I'd hope to ever be as honored to meet the herd. No, this is a good, safe, clearing. Me friend Firenze set it up."

She said, "Firenze?" pique in her voice.

"Not sure he's the one comin' but it'd be nice. I told him you were interested in learnin'."

Hermione took some berries and sat in comfortable silence for a while, then decided to pace and poke around. She found a hollow log, covered with moss and filled with dewy grass. She smiled and went over to her bag.

"What you got there?'

"Just collecting-"

"An intriguing choice for collection," a centaur with grey skin and white spots stood at the edge of the clearing, much older than any centaur that Hermione had ever seen.

She recognized a young, blue eyed, blond haired palomino centaur as Firenze. A younger centaur, white with coffee splotches, peered behind another tree while Firenze moved forward to Hagrid, holding out a small twig.

Hagrid stood up, "'Allo, there." He proffered a small, whittled carving and took the branch with his other hand.

Firenze smiled and took the carving to the elder centaur. Hermione observing, noticed that the younger centaur was watching just as intently, their tail flicking nervously.

"Human child, you have earned the trust of a valued friend and are prepared to exchange experience?" Firenze said.

Hermione swallowed, "I was hoping to be-" Hagrid looked over at Hermione, eyebrows raised, "-here-,"

She scrambled for her thoughts for a moment too long, because Firenze took that as a philosophical stance and commended, "A promising statement."

The elder centaur moved forward, "This is Cassiopeia," the youngest centaur stumbled forward.

"Cassiopeia is my star chosen, and is undertaking the tutelage to grow. I am Astrifer, responsible for the herd's collective knowledge."

Hagrid bowed and said, "Pleasure to meet you, Cassiopeia."

Hermione followed suit, and looked up, "I don't know what I would be able to offer in exchange, but I hope that I will be of some use to you."

"Use? It isn't use that we seek." Cassiopeia looked to Astrifer, concerned.

He turned back towards her, "Humans are ambitious by nature, and as a young species look for ways to make a mortal mark on the land. 'Use' is the approximation of value to themselves. I do not believe the young possess a vocabulary to express value outside of use."

Hermione winced, "I'm afraid that your assessment may be true for many adults, and is also true for me, though I can say that it is not true of my twin or many other children."

Hermione stretched her shoulder under the gaze of the non-humans in the clearing.

"What is it that your herd calls you?" Cassiopeia asked.

"Hermione Rose," but Hermione couldn't resist clarification, "But actually, humans technically have two herds. One, that consists of my birth mother and father and any progeny they produce. That's my family, and share my last name- Evans. And the second, is the larger herd of society."

Cassiopeia shuffled their hooves and scratched the short spiky hair atop their head, "I think I am beginning to understand the concept of possession."

Hagrid smiled and took out his whittling knife, a knot of wood and took a seat.

* * *

Halloween arrived for Hermione like a suspicion.

The Mandrake leaf in her mouth had morphed into a vein mesh and took residence in places she knew she hadn't put it. She would leave it on the sill of her bed tonight, the moon in the utterly convenient westerly path that coincided with the Gryffindor dormitories.

Dreams had affected her sleep to the point that she sought the Draught of Dreamless Sleep. The Sphinx in her dreams kept asking her different riddles, in the sand and in the Library, nearly drowning in heat and sand, mud and bones. She had run out of potions and ingredients from the stores of the Room of Requirement, and as a consequence had discovered that it had furnished her with by it's function of a lost and found trap.

Remus, she knew, was moon sick and his friends took more of an interest this time. Though, the Whomping Willow had just been planted, so she imagined it would be more difficult to explain Remus' absence from the Hospital Wing. She had decided that until she could figure out when the next lighting storm was to finalize her animagus ritual, she wouldn't inform Remus.

Additionally, she was no closer to figuring out her animagus form or procuring any recipe that would relieve Remus of his lycan symptoms.

She met with Lugaid in his office, and had revealed her tremulous control of her magic.

"Have you tried _Wingardium Leviosa_ without your wand but with the wand movement?"

Hermione referred to her notebook, "Yes, but it levitated with less efficacy than no movement at all. However, I would like to add that circumstances seem to have changed..." she flipped through the pages.

There was a brief knock at the door, but as it was left open Dumbledore peered in right after, "Your tutorship is still in progress?"

"We- were," Lugaid sighed, "I was just wrapping up with Miss Evans here, as I do need to leave soon."

Hermione stood up, at attention, snapping her notebook closed. "Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore smiled kindly at her and said, "Progressing, Miss Evans?" He tugged on his beard, his bright orange robe bringing out the auburn streak still in his silver hair.

Hermione dipped her head, "Not as well as I had hoped."

Dumbledore looked at her over his half moon glasses, and looked searchingly at her for a moment before sharing a look with Lugaid.

"I'm sure that there will be time for that later. If I may speak with your Professor Lugaid?"

Hermione finished gathered up her things, wondering if Dumbledore came into her meetings with Lugaid on purpose.

"Thank you for your help, Professors." Hermione swung her bag over her shoulder and left the office, but slowed as she heard Lugaid raised his voice in response to something that Dumbledore said.

Hermione thought fast and placed her notebook on the ground and spread some papers around and strained to hear.

She only heard some words from Lugaid, 'must' and 'know it's tonight.' Dumbledore's tone he took when he was trying to get a point across thrummed through calmly.

The conversation seemed to end when Lugaid firmly and calmly stated something and Dumbledore bid him farewell.

Hermione scraped up her papers and really fumbled for her pen that had rolled away.

"Bag trouble, Miss Evans? You seem to be carrying a heavy load." Dumbledore glided down the stairs, his robe a starry purple, his cumberbund orange.

"Er- yes Professor." Hermione gathered up her things and lingered a bit longer as Dumbledore passed her.

She stood up and Dumbledore tightly turned, "Miss Evans? Is there anything that you would like to inform me of?"

"Not as of late, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded and raised his blue gaze knowingly up at the doorway that Lugaid now stood in.

Hermione looked up at Lugaid who was gripping the stone railing outside his door tightly. Heart beating in her ears, she asked, "Professor Lugaid, I had one quick question about the direction of my further practices?"

The Headmaster left though the tension did not lessen, and Lugaid beckoned her back up.

Hermione walked back up the stairs and looked out the corner of her eye at the door until it shut.

"Professor Lugaid, I can handle the practice design on my own until -em, Kage meets with me next month."

Lugaid's eyes crinkled but his smile didn't quite stretch, "Why am I not surprised?"

Hermione placed her hand on the chair that she had been sitting in by his desk and gripped her bag, "Professor… I am concerned that you are going to go somewhere dangerous tonight"

Lugaid very abruptly, "Miss Evans please let me assure you-"

"Professor, Halloween night is not..." She bit of skin off her lip.

"Do you know something, Miss Evans?"

Hermione gathered herself up, fighting the tightness in her chest and her paranoia ringing in her head and expulsed, "Tom Riddle… makes grand seizures of control on Halloween night."

Before Lugaid said anything she plowed forward, through the bile in her throat. "I would strongly advise, independent of anyone _else's_ advice that you do not go... anywhere. Outside. I mean off of Hogwarts grounds. And that you advise anyone else to do the same."

Lugaid leaned against his workspace table, arms crossed, brow furrowed, mouth open.

Hermione breathed in sharply, Lugaid reached out with his hand on her shoulder.

"There are only so many opportunities to take a stand, Miss Evans. I put myself at risk because it is the right thing to do."

Hermione nodded slowly, "There is no… group to stand against…?"

"There are several different groups, Miss Evans but my associates are not interested in parlaying with political ideologies that are outdated."

"Instead, you fight them directly?"

"No, no- there is a political rally that will not become violent, but will be opposed. Peacefully, with education and zero compromise."

"There will not be a _peaceful_ opposition! You said yourself, there is no negotiation. "

"Run along now, Miss Evans. I shall see you next week for a meeting."

Hermione stomped her foot, "You're making a mistake, Professor."

Lugaid nudged her out of his office, patting her shoulder, "I appreciate your concern, I promise I'll be back. Enjoy the feast, Miss Evans."

He sent her off, dismissing her. She whirled out the door and ran to the owlery.

* * *

 _L. Alphard Black,_

 _I have already assured your nephew that I have gotten all my books from the library. However, this is a book that seems to require a translation key. If you could please provide a key for one tome titled 'Wild Magic'?_

 _-Hermione R. E._

* * *

Miss Evans,

I do quite forget the knowledge gaps that prevent the proper access to spellcraft- unfortunately, translation keys are attuned, one may say, to particular writers and their bloodline. It is possible for you to read the language and script?

I have loaned my nephew an artifact. He will be able to use it to see if the book is open to the suggestion of changing it's words (please be aware that it will be dangerous to implement outside of his use) He is also in possession of the oral tradition to get a book to shall we say, talk in his own tongue.

Failing this, I am afraid that wizards must learn quite a few archival languages to understand the inner mechanisms of spells.

I will indeed save you the trouble of nervously awaiting my request, and ask- what extra homework are you doing?

Curiously,

L. Alphard (please) B.

* * *

 _L. Alphard,_

 _I appreciate your attempts but they have failed, however I have learned something new regardless and consider it a minor success._

 _My homework is regarding the ancient practices of magic. Would you be able to provide me with a particular ingredient if I could return with a batch of the potion in question? I am sure that you may be able to make a return on your investment._

 _Hermione R. E._

* * *

Miss Evans!

I have delivered the ingredients to Professor Slughorn under the guise of a donation to the improvement of potion-making opportunities on behalf of all students. He has assuredly kept a choice specimen for himself, but placed an item of 'dubious' quality on your shelves. I advise you wait ten hours from receiving this note to retrieve your specimen.

I trust that your rationale, and supreme method of judgement, will find I have held up my end of the deal. After this considerable risk, I will ask a question within the same level of risk - do you have a grandmother that has disappeared from your life and suddenly re-entered after knowing that her line has produced magical protege', or have you always been this clever?

Respectfully inquiring,

Alphard

* * *

 _There will be a rally this eve and it **will** become violent. If you or anyone you know will be there __**please**_ _, be on guard for a terrible statement to be made! I implore you- for your nephew, do not go except to draw others away. Be on guard._

 _I believe that one of my professors, Prof. Lugaid- will be in danger & Dumbledore will choose to do nothing. _

_I have always been this clever. But I think you knew that at the bank._

 _Hermione_

* * *

Miss Hermione,

I believe that it is best if our next correspondence takes place in Hogsmeade, with your noble and naive Professor.

Forgive me for the delay in reassurance, these past few days have been exceedingly trying.

Sincerely,

Alphard

-Miss. Evans,

The new date for our meeting will be the second Sunday of November.

And- thank you, for your concern. As I am sure you know, others were not so lucky as I.

* * *

Lugaid had kept his appointment with her and taken her to Kage, nary speaking a word to her on the journey there. Just before entering the town he turned, and very seriously regarded her, snow crunching under his boots.

"Know that I am committed to assisting you, and that I am... indebted. If Alphard had not pulled me aside, if we had not had a discussion outside..." He trailed off, looking above her head and then back to the castle.

Hogwarts had been terribly quiet this weekend.

She welcomed when he turned to walk to the pub they had met Kage for tea at last time.

Kage, beyond the mirror, noted that Hermione had been unsuccessful in her attempts at meditation, and advised Lugaid to wait outside for their other guest.

"My pupil, allow me to impart a bit of knowledge that you _know_ , but have failed to implement and therefore, have not understood."

Kage set her steaming cup of tea down, "You are attempting to be many things at once, without understanding your being. In preparing to become, to force order upon yourself and others, you have overlooked the chaos of what is; therefore, your expenditure of force is inharmonious, and thus: ineffectual."

Hermione's palms tightened, her neck tensed.

Kage gently continued, 'Do not despair. Let me guide you through a meditation that may provide peace.'

Kage requested permission to be at the edge of Hermione's consciousness, and then invited her to imagine a peaceful landscape, rather than empty her mind.

Kage appeared on the rise of Shell cottage beach, her black kimono with white branches too stark for the watercolor setting. She looked at Hermione reassuringly.

Hermione felt sheepish, and a sense of shame began to tear at the sunset. Kage placed a small, pale hand on her shoulder and blew the shame away with an ocean breeze.

Hermione looked at the house, the lights in the kitchen illuminating Fleur and Bill washing the dishes.

Draco stood in the garden, looking at her with his arm slung over his chest, his hand resting on his shoulder.

This was when he had agreed to teach her Occlumency principles. Her nightmares about torture were becoming a day time issue and she felt that if she learned, then perhaps she could inform Harry while it still could be a benefit.

A moment of strength that lent you clarity. It was a thought that was not hers, but was unintrusive.

She flashed to Draco, instructing her to bind memories to an object and build a locked box for it. His grey eyes were searching. Ron's face, edged into her perspective, watching with anger.

No. Kage was in the room, casually walking between Draco and Ron. Her robe sleeves folded over her hands, and the cottage faded away. Ron was gone. Draco turned towards Harry, the ocean spray on her face cold and harsh.

A woman, old and young looked at her with stars in her eyes.

Kage stood with her on the rock in the middle of the ocean as Draco and Harry screamed at each other.

Then, she was back in the mirror room with Kage beyond the mirror again.

Lugaid re-entered.

Kage suggested, "I would like to extend the invitation for Hermione to winter with me."

"No- out of the question." Lugaid straightaway stated, brushing the very idea away from his face.

"In Japan?" Hermione was still resonating with the turgid, roiling crash of waves in the dark ocean.

"Yes." Kage said, and raised a single eyebrow at Lugaid.

Lugaid pressed his lips outward, his eyebrows quizzical, "How-? No. The Evans family should spend their Christmas together- Hermione, Miss Evans is a _child_ , who needs to have the support of both her family and educational-"

"Professor, I was considering not returning to my family before Kage-san suggested this… opportunity. I would be honored to accept."

Lugaid breathed in deeply, but there was a knock on the door. "Excuse me Professor, but your guest has arrived."

Lugaid opened the door.

A man stepped in, in a cloak and cowl of arabesque in velvet and brocade.

Hermione was certain that not one person could be fooled about the identity of the wizard beneath the cowl.

After the door closed, Alphard Black revealed himself, bowing deeply towards Kage. He grasped Lugaids hand.

"I apologise. Triche is as insufferable as he is dogged. Ah, Miss Evans. Have you…" He looked at Lugaid and Kage for clues before turning back to Hermione.

She had her hands in her lap, waiting calmly for him to expand.

Alphard took a seat, taking off his gloves. "I was wondering if I missed the explanation, of how you knew that there would be an outbreak of violence, and what it is that you are endeavoring to accomplish."

Hermione looked at the three contradistinctive wizards and witch, all with varying degrees of measurement written into their expressions.

"I have noticed that… there are several things about the wizarding world that both lack logic and imagination. Currently, there is a violent, ugly response to these inherent problems and I seek to end both the cause and the symptom."

"I-I am not sure what that even means-" Lugaid started.

"I know a half answer when I hear one Miss Evans." Alphard poured himself a cup of tea.

Kage remained silent.

Hermione knew she needed Kage, but would be completely unable to hide the truth from her.

"I think I have decided... that I would like to go to Japan with Kage this Winter. I believe that I would like to also get a job, Lord Black."

"Oh Lord Alphard, please." Alphard said facetiously.

She looked at Lugaid, "That is my current extent of my plan. Of course, I would also like to continue my ...education as much as possible. I am unsure of what I can offer you, but I would like to be included."

The Samhain slaughter at the political rally, she was sure, was the last attempt at subversion and orchestrating events so that Tom Riddle was not to be blamed but empathised with. He had announced himself as the Dark Lord Voldemort and things, she knew, would change drastically by this next summer.

Sorrow had already set into the student body. Maisy Summers had left the semester early for the funeral. A fifth year named Dearborn had come back but had gotten into such a vicious fight with another boy in his year that Gryffindor had landed in last place.

"Why haven't you gone to Dumbledore? If you are aware of the issues at hand, if you're looking at this crisis for what it is..." Alphard blinked in Lugaids direction, well enough that Hermione almost missed it.

"I don't trust Dumbledore. Some of my suspicions were confirmed this Halloween. Death is an acceptable alternative for Albus Dumbledore, to say nothing of pain. I believe, that however powerful a wizard he is, he should not be the only thing that stands between good and evil."

There was a bit of shuffling, and the small sounds of tea.

"How did you _know?_ " Lugaid asked, finger on the table.

"I pay attention."

"Miss Evans, it sounds like you have a very clear idea of what to do next, even if your end goal and your precocious insight is… obscured." The Lord Black leaned back, his fingers tapping the table. "How do you feel about vellichor?"

Hermione liked the sound of working at a bookstore and his response pleased her even more.

Alphard had a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth while Lugaid tasked, "No- first, a job is out of the question during school! But the actual question of travel- _international_ travel- I will have to ask your parents! There's also how to get there-"

"No- I would prefer my parents not know. There's a statute anyway, protecting muggleborn students from the school divulging troublesome information in the interest of wizarding secrecy and the mental stability of the muggle parents. Especially to ensure education." It was found because she was researching animal rights in the Wizarding World, and knew she never wanted to worry her parents like she had inadvertently done in her second year.

Lugaid for a moment looked bewildered and then laughed.

Kage said, "I will provide the necessary transportation."

Alphard clapped his hands together, "That's that then. So, before tea is cold let us delve into tedious schedule."

* * *

Meetings with Lugaid were to proceed as normal on Sundays, and Friday became the norm with Astrifer and Cassiopeia.

She felt like she couldn't quite understand the use of the 'lessons' with Astrifer, but Kage had strongly advised her to continue.

Cassiopeia handed her a bow and smiled, "This is yew. You showed me last time the _use_ that wood for wands have for wizards, and I thought you can see how the bow grows with it's hunter."

Hermione closed her fingers around the bow and took it respectively, albeit confused.

Astrifer held out an arrow, "The wand and the bow are similar in many ways."

Hermione accepted the arrow, as Cassiopeia had accepted holding her wand, knowing the centaurs believed that the wand was a tool to take, to kill with.

Astrifer strung his bow, "So must we all descend from the stars to inhabit our earthly bodies, to continue our spiritual selves. The cost, however, is always too great."

As winter shrugged into it's snowy coat, Hermione found purchase between the directions she was pulled in and she found comfort in it's ice.

Though, Lily shouting her head off at her was proving to be very uncomfortable. Lily had noticed that Hermione wasn't packing and then Hermione handed her a list of things that she'd like from home.

Lily began to shout at her immediately, mostly asking demanding questions and saying things like "You're ruining Christmas!" or "Mummy will make you come right home!"

There was a knock on the cracked door, and then they heard the Gryffindor Prefect's voice, "Hey, everything alright in there?"

Lily rammed open the door and left.

Jillian peered in the room, her shoulders scrunched up.

"It's fine, Jillian."

Jillian hovered around the door and said, "Thought I heard a row."

Hermione shook her head.

Jillian's expression shrugged, and shut the door.

Crookshanks slid around her feet as she entered the Common room. Feeling eyes on her, she found Sirius watching her, sitting on the floor by the hearth. He dipped his head and raked his fingers through the top of his head.

Sirius had worked closely with her trying to translate _Wild Magic_ with mixed results, though she felt he was secretly pleased to be working in a cabal-like seriousness.

Remus turned around from his spot where he was curled up on the couch, looking tired. He sighed and Pettigrew leaned forward from the other armchair.

Potters voice was light, "Storm went out," his wand went up and then pointed to the door, "that way."

Hermione sighed, and in absence of her bag ran her fingers over her wand in her sleeve.

"So," Peter segued awkwardly, "You're staying at Hogwarts? My mam would be real broken up about that."

Sirius bit the inside of his cheek and chucked a bit of something into the fire.

Remus, turning to look at Sirius said, "Yeah, same. Are you going home...for Christmas? Sirius?"

"No choice. Got to."

Potter sat upright from where he was laying, "We… could see each other, over break."

Peter immediately became excited, "Yeah! I could show you 'round London!"

Potter cocked his head and pointed, "Muggle London? Yes."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She was amused despite the situation and left to find Lily.

She wandered around the grounds flicking through events, cold pockets of observations that reminded her of her task and of how little succeeding now would fix everything that she'd failed to fix so far.

She could not find Lily and ashamedly, couldn't reason where she might be. Just as she gave up, Severus found her in the hallway.

"Hermione."

"Oh, Severus. Have you seen Lily?"

Severus stomped toward her, looking murderous. She thumbed her wand instinctively.

"Yes, I've just come from seeing her- seein' her cry about you ruining her Christmas and how you don't care about family." Severus stuck out his hands to poke her or grab her but she went in for an embrace, instead utilising a tactic from her reading she had done prior to Hogwarts.

Severus panicked and flapped his arms to get her away from him, but she said, "Thank you, for caring so much about Lily."

He froze.

Hermione released him, and he shuddered away, nearly tripping on his feet and robe.

"Have you considered spending Christmas with her- with my family?"

"What?" Severus sputtered.

Hermione gave him a smile, a little sad. "I'll be working on some things. She'll need you."

She left him with his shoulders high and stiff, looking sour and confused, in the hall.

* * *

The white socks were stiff, and strange between her toes and afforded little warmth.

Kage wrapped what she had called an _obi_ around Hermione, and it was much tighter and heavier than she thought.

Kage smoothed the kimono over her shoulders, saying a word that Hermione didn't understand but knew the tone of, and led her to the other side of her bedroom.

Her feet softly thudded on the floor. A woman who had been in attendance while Kage dressed her,assisting in both holding and fetching, knelt on the floor to slide open the door to an outdoor hall.

The forest of pine beyond was a melancholy contrast of dark and white.

As she walked behind Kage along the hall, she couldn't help but wonder what Kage _was._

Kage knelt on the floor, opening the door with one hand and then after a crack, with the other. She slid forward in one smooth movement and waved Hermione inside.

Hermione stepped in the room which was large but empty except for two square floor pillows and a table of natural wood, with what looked like a blanket under its flat top.

Still kneeling, Kage closed the door. Then she smiled as she stood and sat at the table and gestured for Hermione to join her.

Kage had told her when she first arrived that she would need only to settle in for the first day, and that during their meal they would not speak of tasks or itinerary.

Hermione was finding it very difficult to talk, or to settle on a subject that was not asinine, and the longer she delayed, the more oppressive the silence seemed.

Hermione knelt on the ground and wondered where the woman that had assisted Kage had gone. She tried to copy Kage's position, and her neat straight lines with her kimono and slid under the blanket. She sighed happily as she discovered it emanated a comfortable heat.

"I hope that you will like living here for the time being. There are many things to get familiarised with."

"It's very…" Hermione looked around the square chamber with it's low ceiling and cream walls and resisted saying empty, "-peaceful."

"Yes, much different than the castle of Hogwarts, I imagine."

A door on the other side of where they had come in opened a crack, and then two hands moved the door entirely open.

The woman that had assisted them earlier was accompanied by another woman and two trays.

They set the food before them, and left.

Kage smiled, "Hermione, do you know how to use _hashi_?" Kage's thin hand held two elegant sticks.

Hermione studiously copied Kage's style of holding the chopsticks, and copied opening the bowls and covered food items, revealing salty soups and fish with vegetables.

"I would like to know more about you, Hermione."

"I- am not sure what to say."

"I do not mean what your purpose is, what your goals are, what you wish to see; I mean to know, how do you feel about the air here?"

"What?"

Kage was amused, "Perhaps you do not have an opinion yet on this. What about the color of your kimono? Blue suits you."

Hermione set down her chopsticks, thrown off and a little uncomfortable. Small talk after such a long build up and in such a drastically different environment seemed banal.

Gently, Kage continued, "I also will answer questions you have of me."

"Are you- do you have a title?"

Kage smiled and said, "Perhaps. Do you like the color of your kimono?"

Hermione looked down at the navy kimono robe and dove grey of her obi, "I think it's the nicest thing I have ever worn. The color seems very… grown up."

"It was mine when I was young, when my Father still held his rank as a _daijin._ I am unsure of the correlated term, but it means that he was responsible for the people and the land. I retain everything but his title."

Hermione nodded, "Why can't we talk of what I will learn and do here?"

Kage ate a bit and examined Hermione, "It is because I need you to trust me. Tomorrow will be very difficult for you. Painful even."

"You can hardly build trust in one day."

"No, but it helps if you are lost in your own mind for me to pull you back through something that I can grasp."

"Why are you doing this for me?"

She sighed and separating the flesh of the fish from it's bones, "I have said before, you intrigue me. I am a friend to Lugaid, who asked me to assist but - I have never met a child with your…"

Hermione's mind was racing from how much Kage knew to what she was expecting her to do.

Kage ate a bit of the fish and chewed thoughtfully, staring into her eyes, "Profound possibility for change. Even over the fact that I know that you have lived two lives."

Now that it had been said aloud, Hermione felt strange; lightened and anxious.

"This duality is dangerous. It is divided within you, and peices of who you are- they wither and their death cuts at you."

Hermione's rubatosis neither comforted or anchored her but she began to feel a panic of what this next week would hold.

Kage tapped what she had called hachi against Hermione's plate, "Please, eat. The future will come quickly enough for us to forget the present."

* * *

AN:

Time will have to move quickly for Hermione in the next few chapters- perhaps too quickly. I may create side stories for questions I want to explore or scenes I need. Not 'plot-thick' but characterisation wise.

Not to sound like a fucking japan obsessed freak- but...

 _Hachi:_ chopsticks

 _Obi_ :the sash that goes around a kimono


	16. 4: II : 16: Dextrosinestral

**Act II: Render**

 _If you want to build a ship, don't drum up the men to gather wood, divide the work, and give orders. Instead, teach them to yearn for the vast and endless sea._ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

In which Draco finds that there are others on the edge of the vast, dark of the impossible.

 _Chapter 16: Dextrosinestral_

* * *

The Ministry was the same since he first visited after waking up in this non-sequitur reality. It unnerved him, but asking low clearance wands about where to locate Blaise Zabini was probably the best step to take. He wasn't sure that Blaise would respond to his owl. He wasn't sure how he would be received by Blaise either, but at least he'd know.

He inquired at the Auror administration desk directly, "I am looking for a wizard by the name of Zabini-"

A witch, who Draco thought had curled her hair in such a way that made her appear thirteen going on fifty three, said, "Who?"

"Zabini, Blaise-" Draco enunciated impatiently.

"Yeah, we know 'im, tall, 'cat-like', got 'dream boat eyes'," the wizard next to her crossed his arms and leaned back, a small smirk fighting its way up to his eyes.

"Oph, erm-, _Collum_ , when, what," the witch said trying to regain casualness, "I usually see him cross the hall quite more often than the others,"

"Lass, you carry around a pack of fags just so you can talk to him out by the toilets," said her wizard desk mate wryly.

"Excuse me," Draco rapped his knuckles on the desk. Blaise standing about by the lavatory was absurd. "Fetch him for me? Or tell me which level to take as it appears he is employed here?"

"We couldn't even if we wanted to, don't even have the slightest as to who you are." The woman said indignantly.

Draco was indignant, "I am Draco Malfoy, Scion of the House Malfoy. Do not make me wrest information from some gape-jawed, desk bound -" He knew very well his families short-comings and the incorrectness of his situation, but he would be damned if Ministry officials pretended to not know him on sight.

The witch recoiled and the wand-for-hire teetered to explain as he sat up straighter, "Unspeakable offices aren't on open floors, Lord Malfoy- and I knew who ye were right away, I just enjoy takin' the piss outta-"

"I am not interested in your feeble attempts to get out- ugh, just send him a message."

The woman breathily said, "We can try to get a message down there but, well- usually the letter hangs about the door until one of them comes out anyway- but I can start it!" She rummaged around for a clean paper and quill.

The wizard, uniquely relaxed, started again, "The clearance procedures for you to get down there would have to be cleared by the Minister, Master Malfoy."

Malfoy did not like to be kept waiting and disliked being seen waiting even less. "What clearance procedures could I possibly need?"

"Intimidating your lessers again, Malfoy?" Blaise had come up so quietly and quickly that the witch yelped.

Blaise pointedly ignored the agents, and tipped his head for Draco to follow him.

Draco knew that Blaise had kept his vice he had relished since sixth year when he led Draco outside, past the toilets.

Blaise lit up a cigarette with his wand and a strong inhale, then let the smoke slowly ease out of the corner of his mouth.

Draco stood and looked down the dim, narrow cobblestone alleyway that curved past his visions vanishing point, and then back at Blaise, leaning against the corner of an alcove.

Zabini didn't say anything and languidly blinked at Draco.

Draco said, "Odd place for an alleyway."

Blaise's eyebrows shrugged.

"I see that Unspeakable charm has only grown."

"Flatterer." Blaise's soft voice was cottoned with smoke.

"I wouldn't suppose you'd give me information even if I paid for it in an extremely polite request?"

"From an honored sycophant like yourself? How could I possibly refuse," Blaise's voice was overly colored with tones that Draco uncomfortably recognized.

Blaise's expression shadowed, "And yet… how could I be permitted," he said with all the disdain of a collard kneazle.

Draco checked the button on his sleeve to touch his wand for comfort, and tried to recollect himself, "I'd love to- take you out, elsewhere, to catch up."

"Terribly sorry, but I work now- no gentleman of leisure am I."

"I wouldn't describe my life as leisurely and you-"

"Don't bitch Draco, it's unbecoming of a person so proud to have taken the mantle of responsibility so early." Blaise tapped the ash of his cigarette off and the alcove opened.

"Where're you-"

"My smoke break is over."

"What did-"

"No, don't give me that wounded look. You're above this-" irritated he closed the alcove once again and in a hushed warning tone said, "snooping around-whatever information you're after, if you're not going through your approved channels," he widened his eyes warningly.

"You have to hear me out then, to find out."

Blaises full lips pressed together, and Draco snapped, "Either I am a despicable coward for doing something, or an idiot for taking it back- is that it? Sounds like some very high ground reasoning to me."

Draco felt a lurch into lightness, and Blaises face shivered into two layers. Blaise sneered, and his expression remained the same. Draco blinked hard and ran his fingers over his robes, straightening the edges.

Blaise, closed lipped, ran his tongue over the sides of his teeth. After a moment, "Fine, drinks. Tonight. Pansy is coming out to Sigil & Spoon."

Draco didn't think he had shown anything in his expression, but Blaise quickly admonished, "We don't go out very often so don't act like a petulant child."

Draco was reeling away from Blaise's jabs and back pedaled to the odd place Blaise mentioned, "Where-"

"Old district, blood quarter. My choice, so dress accordingly."

Draco let out a breath and put a single finger to his forehead, he was already feeling a sense of dread and unease from the fissures happening again, and let his bewilderment show at the location.

"Surely you're not turning your nose up at the new neighborhood where your Lord decided the valiant allies of the new order should live."

Draco, irritated, snapped, "Floo, or what?"

"Floo, if you must."

"Fine, then I will meet you here at six."

"Probably not wise, but whatever, you're buying my first drink." Blaise opened the alcove again and made to leave, clearly uninterested.

"Don't find me clever anymore?" Draco couldn't help but lash out, feeling Blaise's rejection sting more than he'd like.

Blaise put his forearm behind his hip and tossed out, "Oh Draco, you were always clever, but maybe not enough for your own good."

Leaving Draco feeling like a smear, Blaise disappeared.

* * *

Draco went home, and avoided all contact with humans. He passed out on his bed after telling Winky he had another appointment and to wake him again at five. It seemed like the second Winky winked out of existence he was awoken by the elf's respectful pleas.

Molasses sleep pulled at him, but he heard a trickle of water that made him think that perhaps someone was in his lavatory chambers.

It was a fountain, in his room. About hip high, it poured into a large bowl shape from a floating white stone.

He stared blankly at it.

Winky twisted their hands together, "Mas-Master, Master?"

"I'll need to select the clothes myself, Winky. Some tea for me, er- please." He decided to ignore the fountain.

Draco prepared and while having his tea, gave Winky explicit, safeguarded instructions to contact Viktor Krum and try to arrange a conversation with him. He had to carefully construct when and how that would be possible.

Feeling that the elf had a good enough handle on it, he told Winky to tell his mother he was going out for the evening and not to worry. The elf looked worried.

He left for the Ministry, and walked into the Atrium. Not seeing Blaise, he headed towards the elevator to reach the Unspeakable Floor.

Blaise was in the lobby, but Draco was halfway to the elevator before Blaise snagged his arm and Apparated them out of the Ministry.

Draco's arm was in severe pain as Blaise wrenched him upright from Apparation resistance. When they were spat out onto a dingy street corner Draco whirled around.

"You could have splinched me!"

"I know you," Blaise said, as way of mollification.

Draco yanked his robe jacket forward and adjusted his buttonless cumberbund-like vest.

Blaise eyed his clothes with cool appraisal.

Draco twitched his hand up and snatched his wand as it slipped out of his sleeve, "Mud on my boots, Blaise, nearly as bad as splinching if I know you." Draco said while comparing his outfit to Blaise's changed outfit. Thankfully, he had gotten it right.

Blaise made similar adjustments to his own couture, but not overstated, velvet jacket and vest with an infinity style button cinch, "It's just around the corner."

"Why the rush, Blaise," Draco quietly asked as he stepped back up from the cobblestones.

Blaise's nose twitched, "Atrium's watched- not watched. You're watched, and the lobby people have eyes."

It was like a ghost snake slid down Draco's spine, "What-, I didn't think-,"

Blaise tossed another impatient, patronising look back at him as he disappeared from the street flame and into the alley.

Draco decided to walk at his own pace, though he wanted to rush after Blaise where he took stairs that led below a brick building.

There were two semi-circular shallow tunnels, partially covered in metal, extending away from the steel steps that Blaise stood on, watching Draco approach. Benches with lounging smokers by copper-top tables lined the nook tunnels.

There was a man, leaning more than sitting, on a bar stool outside of an indigo door with an sigil painted on it. He didn't look up, but nonchalantly waved.

"Another history book? Memory that bad?" Zabini's voice had just a glaze of tease to it.

"I was in a blissful state." The man looked up from his book, black hair clouding his face. His gaze flicked to Draco.

Blaise assured the door man, "He's mine."

The man softly blinked his glass green eyes, and then his lips twisted while he scoffed.

Blaise ushered Draco in to hide Draco's sudden indignation.

High ceilings with candlelit chandeliers and a fireplace made for an exquisite though warmly intimate setting.

He saw Pansy, all contrast and aloof gravity. Her short black hair, cut at a knife sharp angle grazed her pale cheek, the shadows from the fire light softening her pert nose and chin. She was running a finger along the top of her wine glass. He couldn't hear the sound it made over the susserations of people and the violin seeping into the bar, but he knew.

He found himself suddenly nervous. The longer they were apart, the more the strain in their relationship pushed them further away.

Blaise greeted her, and she kissed his cheek. Draco came up and she batted her eyes, a wiley and endearing way for her to buy time for self-control.

"It's good to see you, Pansy."

"Draco- lovely. I adore your pick for tonight, though you ought to have shown a bit more neck." She placed a gloved hand on his silk shoulder and moved both of them to her table.

She smiled and shrugged, her collarbone in high relief as she returned Draco's gaze.

A woman was beside Draco and he saw pale olive skin showing through laces down to her navel. She asked, "Three wines of one tonight?"

Draco was going to request a cocktail, but Pansy pursed her lips in a winsome smirk, "Yes, Thalia, please, the bottle is very nice."

Thalia's slow smile reached all the way to her perfectly shadowed eyes, and she poured her smile onto Draco, "A new one, Pansy? Like glass, he is."

Draco could not help but lean back slightly as she whisper hissed her s's.

Thalia left the table, and Blaise snidely commented, "Figures she notices you, Draco. White knight on his high horse."

"And me." Pansy said, smug, her gloved and naked hand woven together under her chin.

"Irresistible." Blaise said mockingly.

"Well, not quite. Lord Malfoy is above _some_ but not _all_ temptations it seems."

Draco did not quip about how it was Malfoy manners, his eyes were caught on a scandalous scene with two women. One of whom was alternately licking and biting the mound of the others breast in the corner.

Thalia's hips swung into view with a wine bottle and two glasses. "Wine for the gentlemen."

"Thank you," Draco said as a reflex, blushing and sitting up straight.

Thalia set the wine bottle and glasses down, saying in her modulated voice, "The dance floor is very exciting tonight, as well as the appearance of the heir apparent."

Pansy leaned back and Blaise scoffed, "Yes, very exciting, he's buying the bottle."

Draco watched Thalia move away, and Pansy plaintively whinged, "You've been snooping about and bothering Theo, Draco, and you've been a twat. Least of your worries, I bet."

Draco was used to this from Hermione, or Harry. It was a far cry from the school girl who hung on his arm, and in many ways, her behavior rankled. "Pansy, Nott is mad. Plainly."

Blaise swirled his wine, "Says the madman."

Draco tapped his finger on the table, "Ah, _no_ , I was taking mother to dine alfresco. He was the one running his mouth and threatening _me_. Pansy, I support whatever it is that you want to do- but _who_ you do is maybe a different story."

Blaise crossed his arms, sipping his wine, "Crass."

Pansy pinked and muttered, "He said you were into his work."

Draco swallowed his wine, "I have no idea what his work _is_ , so I can't really confirm or deny this."

"You're into something," Blaise remarked.

Pansy put her arms on the table and leaned in, "Draco, you can't really be doing something… dangerous now would you?"

"Dangerous-har, she means stupid." Blaise watched his wine swirl.

"I should order absinthe," Pansy raised her arm and wiggled her fingers, slightly standing up.

Draco exclaimed, "Why! I'd like liquor and we're not even going through the wine-"

"No, it's for the rune."

"What?"

"The Sigil & Spoon is not famous for it's decorum," she glanced at another trio in an opposite corner doing furtive things as the violinist watched, "-but it does have some clever measures for security."

Draco was curious for pile of reasons, but focused on the two in front of him. "How do you know that I am doing anything different?"

Blaise snapped his fingers at Draco and said, "No, Absinthe first."

Pansy smiled, and a man wearing a loose shirt with cuffs and leather moto pants was behind him in the same manner as Thalia, suddenly and with no announcement.

He put his hands on the table and bared his teeth in a savage smile at Draco.

"So, the Lord Malfoy."

Draco thumbed his wand, but Pansy said, "Oh Erikur, we were just wondering if you would serve us some absinthe?"

"Absolutely. At price only a Malfoy could afford." His teeth were still bared and the smile did not reach his ice blue eyes. Draco thought that maybe the teeth were odd, too.

"Yes- price change is understandable. Bill it to my tab and then I shall arrange it with Draco." Blaise instructed to both Erikur and Draco, whom were still locked in measuring each other.

"Now Blaise, it's not that kind of payment." Erikur said meaningfully, then turned to the group, "If you don't mind, I'll be moving us to my private chambers."

Pansy straightened and tilted her shoulder with her flattered smile, "Why, of course Erikur-"

"We'd be honored," Blaise stood up and then kicked the leg of Draco's chair.

Draco slowly got up, still watching Erikur. Erikur made a courtly bow, not breaking eye contact with Draco and guided them away.

Draco then saw all the pale servers and their strange features, small builds and extemporaneous movements. Blood Quarter, new order allies- and then Draco knew just as an sigiled door deeper in shut behind him.

Erikur took a silver knife out of his knee high boots and Draco dropped his wand into his hand.

Blaise grabbed him by the wrist while holding his wine glass and bottle in the other hand, and Erikur smirked toothily,"Nervous, Lord Malfoy?"

Erikur placed the knife on a round table with a copper top that had runic and geometric patterns incised on it's surface. It gleamed brightly in the oil light fixures that lit up the small room, and the stained glass windows that decorated the outside of the door colored it in a surreal sepia.

He tapped the blade with a long, pale finger smartly, and then out of his side pocket, hidden under his long shirt, took out a pearl.

Pansy slid into the round bench cosied up next to the table. It was wide enough to allow for laying and deep enough to place your back against the velvet walls with your feet on the wooden lip of the seat.

Blaise settled in next to her, folding his long legs under himself and stretching out his arm with his wine perfectly balanced and a challenge to Draco in his eyes.

Erikur opened a cupboard that held a smoking vessel. He collected a spoon, a light, a cube of sugar, and a green bottle and set them on the table. Then, carefully placed the smoking vessel in the center and from no where a glass materialised in his hand.

Erikur swung his head to the seat, and his pale yellow hair spilled over his shoulder.

Draco stiffly sat down, and felt the chilly fog from the vessel suspire across his face.

Erikur crushed the pearl between his thumb and forefinger and sprinkled it into the glass which he set under the vessel. He poured the liquid from the green bottle in the glass, and placed the spoon with the sugar cube over the rim as it began to bubble. Then, twisting a spigot, he allowed for a misty river to flow like ether down, down, and up out from the shimmering absinthe cup. It filled the glass, and the table, and sank into the sigil.

The sigil runes flashed, and a thrum of silence blanketed the room like anticipation.

"Now," Erikur took a seat too close to Draco, "Tell us how you'll fix this."

Pansy and Blaise shifted nearly imperceptibly.

Draco said, "I don't remember placing an ad out for a new business- I was sure I was here to speak with my friends about matters that concerned us." He raised his eyebrow at Pansy and Blaise.

"Draco, what have you been doing?" Pansy retorted.

Blaise sighed, "Being the center of attention, _again_. Turning down a bride- Gareth's been livid that his daughters worth less after her first engagement, I'll have you know- knocking about Merlins Bridge, and setting the Ministry all a stutter with personal appearances, in which he does nothing but imitate - hmm," Blaise paused mordantly.

"What's the word that means both a person who likes to wave their giant dick about for intimidation and does nothing actually useful?" Blaise looked to Pansy.

"Don't think there's a word for that Blaise," Draco jutted out his chin.

"Well, people have _noticed_ , Draco." Blaise sharply ended his tirade as he set down his wine glass next to him. "You are _always_ supposed to come with trade, orders or information in regards to your fucking hideous supply of third tier citizen stock, but instead you've just asked strange questions to desk-wands, set off Theo's paranoia and made everyone who had eyes know that you had come to see _me_."

Erikur watched with a scrutinizing tilt as Draco's stomach churned and his mouth dried.

Pansy ran her fingertips along the side of the table, "Theo is trying to reinvent the shattered Time Turners- better. He said to me that you're doing something dangerous with Time- and that's why he and Blaise have been talking, in secret and in plain sight."

"It's bad news for me because the Unspeakables have a bit more freedom and a lot less independence now that your dearly beloved Lord is in charge."

"He's not!" Draco slammed his fists on the table. "Stop fucking saying shit like that, Blaise."

The room softly hummed it's silence.

Pansy asked quietly, "How do you live with yourself, then?"

"How do you-" Draco started.

"I don't authorize the rape and murder of women in forced marriage, Draco- that's you!" Pansy threw herself forward and pointed at him with her ungloved hand.

"That's dragon shit, you've always been happy crushing mud-blood under the heel of your social ladder, and contentment with your own life is your authorization-" Draco waved her hand away.

"I'm against this living nightmare, you're profiting off of it!"

Blaise put his hand on her shoulder and Erikur placed it across Draco's chest like he thought Draco may lunge at her.

Erikur spoke like a cooling snap, "It's obvious that both of you are reacting off of mis-information."

Pansy wrested herself off of Blaise and a strange shadow passed over the stained glass.

"What has changed? You are diverting. From being the heel and and living under the boot of your master, you are changing." Erikur said, his arm like a steel bar across his chest.

The room wavered in that splitting sort of existence that Draco had come to recognize.

"What I don't understand is why you're so eager to assist the Lord who gave you full rights to thrive." Draco questioned, trying to regain some control over the conversation and his reality.

Grimness set into Erikur's jaw and he flicked his eyes to the table, withdrawing his arm. "Vampires, and also lycanthropes, do not die as easily. We last longer and… expire in more interesting ways to those who have … deviant desires."

Erikur grew still and stared at the fog on the table. Pansy swallowed and downed most of her wine. Blaise picked up his wine glass again and watched the wine swirl.

"I am not sure I even have a plan." Draco fought not to let his voice waver as he answered Erikur's original question.

"It's overwhelming. Things that need to be done." Dracos nails weren't long enough to cut into his palms but he gripped his wand tightly enough that there was a glow of complaint from it. "I- I'm not sure I can fix it. I know who may be able to help, though."

"Oh besides us useless people, Draco?" Pansy's wetness at her eye was at odds with her sardonic tone.

"I think I know where Hermione Granger is."

Blaise coughed on his wine and Pansy was trying to form a word.

"I also think I know how we might get Harry Potter back."

Blaise and Pansy shared incredulous looks as Erikur narrowed his eyes, "Harry Potter?"

"Yes- I think that if I can just figure out where-"

"Stop." Blaise said sternly.

"It's true-" Draco tried before Pansy cut in.

"Is this why Theo's, you-" she turned to Blaise who was asking her to wait and starting up his own broken sentences, "-messing with time-" she swung her head back to Draco "-is that why he picked up on what you were doing? You can't bring people back from the DEAD," Pansy nearly shrieked.

Erikur lightly coughed.

Draco drew in a short sharp breath and then knocked on the table top, "Excuse me, excuse me, I'm sorry- did-did you not all just ask me for answers, and plans?"

" _Harry Potter_ is not a plan, it's lunacy using a lunatic." Blaise enunciated.

"He's not-" Draco defended, then hesitated because he felt that in many ways Harry was a mad idiot, but he had long since given those qualities a new value.

"You were always obsessed with him, him and-" Pansy said as she polished off her wine.

"Granger," Blaise finished for Pansy.

"Pansy, don't pretend she didn't get under your skin independent from my reasons. She got under it because like everyone else in our year we were told we were better than her, and she was really better than everyone."

Pansy groped around for the bottle of wine in the cushions around her, disgusted, "I hope you hear yourself when you're talking,"

Blaise produced the bottle and poured her more wine as she made a sincerely petulant face.

Erikur recalled, "This- Granger. She was news. Dead before-"

"Before she could be subservient bonded off. I sent her to an ally in Bulgaria." Apparently, though he had no real memory of this or even how his mother helped.

Erikur said, and did not say, as the splitting of reality shook violently once again, "The Dark Lord's bride was stolen- before he could take back her stolen magic." A gaunt version of Erikur in a derelict room wavered behind his fierce, laughing face.

Draco's blood drained from his head and he felt sickened by the jump, though Blaise leaned forward pressing, "Never mind about Merlin's lost prophecy- it's a fools game now. Focus- Granger is in Bulgaria with that tragic Krum?"

They all looked to the door where a thump sounded. Erikur looked concerned, but fixed his knotted brow on Draco, "Is this Chosen One, the Boy who Lived, alive?"

"In a manner of speaking," Draco said, remembering Potters face in the water, the fog on the table like smoke in his eyes now.

"You can't end the Dark Lord, Draco." Blaise was stone cold.

Draco heaved a breath, leaning back with a finger on his forehead, then smoothing his robes as he gathered himself.

"Bloody well know that- that's why it's my job to find a way for Potter to get back into this Time. If ...the Dark Lord's dead, then some other wizard is going to keep running the show." Draco thought of his Father and winced.

"This-" Draco gestured, "-the way things are now, it's His world. We need to find a way to convince people otherwise. All at once. Otherwise it's fighting a Hydra."

"What do you need?" Erikur gripped Draco's shoulder.

Draco thought of his fathers lesson about the Long Game. He'd have to unpick every tangled web he watched be weaved and wove himself.

"We begin with trade. Change access to things so we create a drought of power. Then, try to reason with people, before I get Potter out of whatever timeline he's wandering about in, lure out the Dark Lord from whatever lair of despair he's holed up in, and then kill him and anyone else who likes the way things are."

Blaise slapped his knee, "Easy. We have it in the bag-"

Pansy backhanded Blaise's chest, "Stop."

Another thud hit the stained glass and a smear darkened the pane. Erikur stood up and went to the door, running his fingers along the seam.

He turned, face clouded. "You better leave."

Pansy, fearful, "Why?"

"A raid. The sugar will run out soon- when it does, you'll leave through the hatch." He pointed at the floor.

Draco stood up, "I can try to stop them-"

"No," Erikur said, "You can't be seen again, together, here. They know. You have to decide on a plan."

Draco, his wand already out, "I have to do something-"

Erikur pushed Draco away from the door, "You will- just not now."

Blaise muttered, "Potter really has infected you,"

Pansy covering her mouth said, "I have a few ideas, but Erikur how much time do we have?"

"About five minutes, then the hatch will be able to take you out into the loft where you'll be able to Apparate out."

"I don't like this new role," Blaise declared before he drank from the wine bottle and finished it. Then said, with a novel electricity for Blaise Zabini, "But I'll be damned if I won't do it better."


	17. 2: II: 15: Animistic I

**Act II: Render**

' _There is a tide in the affairs of men. Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;/Omitted, all the voyage of their life / Is bound in shallows and in miseries.'_ **Brutus,** **Julius Caesar** **Act 4, scene 3**

In which a Hero-with-a-thousand-faces voyages to a thousand more ills, heroes and fates.

 _Chapter 15: Animistic_

* * *

 _Scene i: Numinous_

The wind was a soft chill across Harry's face. It carried pine, fresh water, and the earth that was distinctive to his Hogwarts home. The familiar weight of the snake lay around Harry's neck, but as it tightened against the cold, a strange disquiet of memories and feelings surged.

The potions were heavy, as were the rattling quiver, cumbersome trap, and thick cloak. Harry felt as if moving down the mountain was more difficult than it should be. Disoriented, he focused on steadily making his way, hearing only some muffled warnings from Godric beyond his heavy breathing. In his hand, he still tightly held the stone Morgana had bequeathed upon him, but after he slid on the icy mud, he tucked it into a pouch on the potions belt.

When they approached the flat forest land that bordered Hogwarts, Harry saw that the castle was indeed much smaller, and had no wall, or gate. The passage by which students would eventually be transported on Thestral carriages to the castle was not there. He thought that a wall or a pathway would be one of the first things constructed.

"Godric," Harry started.

Godric's head turned.

"Where are the walls of the castle?"

Godric frowned.

Harry looked from side to side, re-examining the area around them, thinking that he mis-judged the distance from the Lake or the rolls of the hill. Perhaps they had been moved?

"You were desperate for a leyline or rune of some sort, and your insistence in sword training was also aggressively defensive for a wizard with a wall-less castle. Swords are just as effective as castle walls." Harry's hands were sore, in some places raw from sword training, and thinking about it caused him to stretch his hands in discomfort.

Godric pulled on his steed's reins and halted, then said something strange with loping vowels.

"What?" Harry said then looked at the snake and tried in parseltongue that came easily to him, " _Am I making sense?"_

" _To me- but to he, not so."_ The snake flicked their tongue out. _"The Isle has deep grasses, but allows for the heart heat to be seen. Here, the grass is cold."_

Harry glanced over at an irritated looking Godric.

A cry from the top of the castle whipped their attention skyward, though nothing was there.

"Rowena." Godric was inscrutable.

Godric dismounted the horse. He patted its face gently before pushing open the Great Hall doors, roaring.

A bright faced woman appeared in the Dining Hall doorway. "Godric!" She laughed. Her other words, which Harry didn't understand, all carried a tone of light-hearted teasing.

Godric looked sour as she patted his shoulders. He allowed her familiarity, but did not look to be relieved by it.

Godric muttered to her before doggedly making an announcement to the hall which had begun to fill up. Harry caught the name 'Morgana Le Fay' and a whisper ran through the students.

The woman tsked and looked to Harry, speaking, presumably, to him.

Dumbly, he waved.

Her eyes narrowed mischievously, and a small smile tucked into the corner of her mouth, dimpling her chin. She sounded a small "Hn," before launching into directing the young people scattered about, unrolling her long, embroidered sleeves.

Godric led Harry through the familiar path to the Headmasters office though the blank walls were dark.

The woman picked up her long dress to catch up with them and began a heated discussion. Godric became agitated as she steadfastly met his volume, pausing to stand and shout.

Harry wandered past them to the alcove that, for him, had held a Griffin who guarded Dumbledore's office. Now, it held a coat of arms of sorts- a badger, snake, raven and lion all stood together.

He studied the statue, thinking that the creatures were looking in the distance rather warily, until Godric and the woman approached him.

The woman asked him a question and though he felt invited by her tone, he could not understand. He shrugged as an answer. The potions clanked and the trap slipped loose off his shoulder. He re-adjusted his load.

The snake peeped their head up warily at the woman. She found this cute, and put two hands over her chest.

Harry started to communicate, but Godric cut in, batting Harry aside and pointing to him intermittently as he waved his hand and spoke clipped phrases. The woman edged closer to Harry, and the smell of sweet fresh bread wafted off of her while the stone animals moved aside. With strong hands she kindly rustled him up the stairs, which had appeared after Godric passed.

Godric shouted, more annoyed than enraged, "Salazar!"

A voice from beyond the door answered. Harry thought that Salazar should sound more evil, but this voice that answered was young and nearly melodious.

Godric banged open the door. It was not a Headmaster's study as Harry has known it as. Neither Fawkes, nor the portraits were there, replaced with four mismatched chairs circling a round table in the center of the room, lit by torches and sunlight. A map with splotches, which Harry thought may be blood, lay on the table.

Salazar Slytherin stood by the window, white haired but with a long, trim, black beard. He rebutted every one of Godric's biting sentences in a gentle tone.

Harry didn't quite know how to feel about a man, who for all his associations and history, didn't look nearly as evil as Voldemort.

Harry snorted to himself, resigned to practicing patience, and took a bit more time to look around.

The woman, who Harry kicked himself for not realising sooner was Helga Hufflepuff, sat down. Her chair was composed of shapely sticks, the armrest encircling her comfortably.

It looked quite like a chair one would like to sit in. The others, not so. The farthest chair from her was made of three planks, carved heavily on the back. Another three legged chair, with no arm rests, made of straight beams and bands, sat between the carved chair and a solid four paneled throne with a point at the top of its back.

Bookshelves masoned into the walls held tubes of hide, and laboriously bound heavy tomes. Some strange implements were stored in the alcove that once held Dumbledore's pensieve- Harry peered at them, but did not get close.

Godric and Salazar were still tensely, and rapidly communicating; the spinning implements next to them, and possibly something up above them, Harry watched as they pointed, a part of their discussion.

Hufflepuff situated her skirts, sighing heavily. She gave a smile, waving Harry over. She took a small twig out of her sleeve, bent it, then pulled. A chair expanded into existence.

She set it down with one hand, though it was quite large, and patted the seat.

Harry, amazed, said, "Wow, thank- you, I mean-" he bowed his head once and he wrested off his gear, taking his seat. Uncomfortable under her curiosity, as he usually was under any one's scrutiny, he tried to focus on the argument between Godric and Salazar.

Salazar moved quickly, going to the window, not raising his voice, and pointed at the map, whirling around, black eyebrows drawn together.

Godric abruptly deflated and fell silent.

Salazar jutted his chin and crossed his arms.

Godric, incensed, launched into a tirade.

Rowena Ravenclaw, opened the door, her long black hair loose. She flowed straight to Harry, heedless of the one sided argument going on. He was met suddenly with her dark eyes, an indigo boring into his. She grabbed his face and pushed back his hair and the snake hissed at her.

" _Hands off, wilds witch- I'll bleed you with poison."_

" _Don't bite her,_ _ **please**_ _."_ Harry desperately pleaded with his friend the snake, trying to push both Ravenclaw's hands off of him and the possibly poisonous snake's head down.

" _A parselmouth?"_ Slytherin said from just behind Godric, then switched back to the language that Harry had decided was some form of old english.

Ravenclaw stepped away, passing over his lighting scar with her thumb. Her expression was fierce, eyes wide and tightly observant, and she did not turn to her fellows though he knew she wasn't speaking to him.

"Well, you're not like anything I thought you would be." Harry said, comparing Rowena Ravenclaw to that of her daughters ghost. Then, Ravenclaw mouthed and repeated what he said, and then repeated it once more thoughtfully and Harry's stomach flopped nervously.

" _Forgive me, I have not been able to properly introduce mysself."_ Slytherin stepped forward, cautiously holding out his arm before Rowena and Godric as if trying to hold them back.

" _I know who you are,_ " Harry stated thoughtlessly.

" _...while I do not have so much as your sscent. Would you be so warm blooded as to let me have it?"_ Salazar spoke parseltongue as well as any snake that Harry had met, and while he understood every word, the metaphor was lost on him.

" _Manling, thisss kins scaless are well hidden, he wishess to sharpen his tongue,"_ the snake whispered to him, and Harry slid the back of his hand over his friend appreciatively, though he wasn't exactly sure what either of them meant.

Godric growled warningly at Salazar, and Rowena cut in. Godric turned to Rowena and gestured with both arms to Harry, a beseeching tone in his voice, eyebrows drawn up. Helga sat and watched Harry and the snake thoughtfully. Then when the deliberation seemed to stilt, she tapped the table and waved her finger between Salazar and Harry, saying a word once, then once more with conviction.

" _There is a way for you to communicate with usss, but it will... sssting."_ Salazar said, pulling on his beard.

" _Sting?"_

" _I am told it is very painful, but it would ease tensions. And, if you plan on joining as a pupil, it would allow you to communicate with your peers quickly."_ Slytherin attached the last part of the sentence innocuously, but Harry recognised it as a tried and true technique. One that he had witnessed Draco using to convince Ron to do something. The memory of them at Merlin's Bridge near Pembrokeshire, when Draco had finally convinced Ron to go with him back to the Manor, hit him like a wallop to the heart.

He looked at Godric, who nodded seriously. Ravenclaw's head was cocked, her arms crossed. Hufflepuff looked on, concerned.

" _Pain isn't so bad."_ Harry said.

Slytherin looked deeply confused and somewhat troubled. His face smoothed before he turned to the others and shrugged the reply.

Rowena started to list things. Salazar went to one of the objects in the alcove and commented on a few of the words Rowena said. Helga procured items out of her sleeves, saying yea- after Rowena's every pause, except one.

Rowena, who was still staring at Harry, shifted. With the back of her hand she flicked Godric's breast plate with a ding. She yea'd.

Godric's face scrunched, unhappily.

She flicked Godric again, turning to glare at him, with two straight lines from her drawn eyebrows cutting nearly into her hairline.

Godric, from a sheathe Harry hadn't seen, drew a small dagger. Rowena held out her hand and Godric reluctantly placed it in her narrow palm.

Salazar turned around while Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw worked, and said to Harry, " _Open wide. And please, remove your friend from your neck."_

Harry looked at a strange metal bar that Salazar held in his hands while he encouraged the snake to move from his neck down to the floor.

" _What is that?"_

" _So you do not injure the hand that grants you the boon of human tongue while it cuts."_

Harry didn't want to trust Salazar Slytherin with a contraption that bound his mouth open, but with Helga Hufflepuff placing her hand reassuringly on his arm, Godric Gryffindor guarding closely, and Rowena Ravenclaw holding a sharp blade with a frightening dexterousness- Harry opened his mouth.

Slytherin placed the cold bar in his mouth and muttered something- it melded to his teeth chillingly and Ravenclaw moved forward, the blade glowing.

Very quickly, she cut his tongue and copper filled his mouth. Rowena chanted, and then pressed a cold marble into the cut. His blood turned viscous, filling his throat and nose, and _burned._

Harry couldn't breathe enough to scream. He clenched his fists, his back tensing while pain roiled.

Small flashes of past Crucio tortures clawed their way into his body and he lost all perception other than pain. Crucio, however, was not new to Harry. He searched through the deep dark static and grasped onto the weapon of his will power.

He didn't pass out, and regained control of his breathing, heavily. He was on his feet. Spots of exertion danced in front of him as he re-registered the four before him, Salazar approaching him cautiously.

"I will," he gestured to his mouth, speaking slowly, "-take that back now."

"Rowena…" Godric started.

"There seemed to be an unforeseen consequence to the ritual. I am unsure..." Rowena said.

Slytherin carefully tapped the metal rind on Harry's teeth, and muttered the spell to return it to its original shape. Harry stretched his jaw and tried to fight his shakiness.

"Sit please, young wayfarer, regain your bearings." Hufflepuff patted his shoulder, but an electric tautness pounded uncomfortably through his body at her touch and he recoiled.

"The Cruciatus curse comes back every now and again, I don't think it was your fault." Harry said, his mouth sort of disjointed. He rubbed his jaw tenderly.

Salazar said, "It has worked, at the very least."

Helga scoffed, and Rowena said, "Of course it did. "

Harry bent down to the snake at his feet in invitation and the snake replaced themselves at his neck.

Slytherin watched this interestedly. "Cursed, are you?"

Rowena and Helga both looked at Salazar with disapproval, while Godric wiped Harry's blood off his blade.

Harry sighed, "Yes, well. Not sure that'll be fixed. When am I getting back anyway?"

Godric went to the window, crossing his arms. Rowena cocked her head the other way and repeated, "'Getting back', getting back? To have backward? Forward to back."

"How will I go through the portal again? I need- to go- back." Harry made an opening gesture like a door and then stepped forward, but became mildly awkward about the pantomime and pointed backwards, then forwards confusedly. He saw he needn't worry about three of them at least. Only Rowena was watching him.

Helga stood up. "You said that he was to stay, a ward- "

"Some language attunement may be necessary-" Rowena aired in a clinical voice.

Godric ground out over his shoulder, gripping his chin, "I brought him out of the Isle for many reasons, and I intend him to stay-"

Salazar said, "Intention or not, there seems to be other designations that neither you nor he are privy to."

Harry stated, "I wanted, actually, to help you."

They stared.

"I know how to solve my curse." _Mostly_ , he thought, as he stopped himself from patting his hair down to cover his scar. "That just requires me getting back through the portal to the right place." _Probably_ , he continued to caveat silently.

Ravenclaw stepped forward, her fingers and thumbs pressed together to make a triangle which she peered at him through. Harry leaned away.

Ravenclaw asked, "Do you intend to stay until the problem is fixed or do you intend to leave when the door can be opened?"

"Uh-" Harry hesitated as Ravenclaw hovered her hands from Harry's head and down to his chest. Harry looked down at her, strongly reminded of Luna.

Helga tutted, "Ro, starling, please. Leave your examinations- our new wayfarer is tired."

Harry looked at Godric, who looked distantly out into the forest, and an irrational surge of anger rose up in Harry, "What about being sent to the wrong place?"

Godric turned towards him, "I will handle it. There is other business that I must attend to-"

Rowena pointed to the map, "Tonight, Godric. Take care. The mark is clear, and I saw it well."

Godric strode to the door, "You've seen this clearly, or is this another Divination?"

Rowena snapped, crossing her hair under her arms, "T'was heard, as well as seen, if you must show such scorn for my Sight."

Godric's breathed in as if he were to say something, clenching, but instead left.

Harry jolted after him but Hufflepuff snatched his shoulder and said, "Be at peace."

Rowena let out a sharp breath, and Salazar flicked his eyes away to the window.

Harry felt strongly that Slytherin had sent Godric out, and began to think of an argument as to why he should follow Godric and press him for answers, and demand why- away from Slytherin and Ravenclaw- _why_ he still went out on their word.

Hufflepuff urged, "Peace. I will ensure that you are given food and drink and seen to your bed. Now, let us get acquainted and I shall assuage your fears by whatever answers you seek."

Harry doubted that very strongly. "Where is he going?"

Slytherin sighed and placed his arms in the sleeves of his robe, "To the neighboring Muggle village- common Angles you see, very fond of getting slaughtered by and slaughtering Danes. Or Vikings, or Saxons, or Normans. Anyone."

Harry strained to recall Primary lessons. For the most part he could remember. Though, when his Uncle had locked him in the cupboard and denied him food, he usually tended to drift off in history and History of Magic was not actually better.

"I-... Muggles, nearby?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes," Salazar said solemnly and gazed out the window, watching the grounds.

Rowena's intense wide eyes were unfocused, and Helga touched her shoulder lightly before turning again to Harry.

"I am Helga Hufflepuff, they are Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. We're teachers."

"Founders," Slytherin corrected, "Lords, at our purest function," and quietly added, "- and fools."

Hufflepuff shook her head and turned back to Harry. "What are we to address you as?"

"Har- Er-" Harry faltered.

Was he to suffer Hermione Granger telling him that she read about him in ' _Hogwarts, a History'_ as well? Paralysed by pseudonym, he scratched his head- had Godric not told them his name?

"No house? No family name? No title- just... Aaerer?" Slytherin quizzed detachedly.

"Right, just…"

Hufflepuff said, "Aaerer, I will take you back down to the Dining Hall, and then I shall find a student to bring you to the room I will prepare for you."

"A room _where_ , Helga? Not in the Red House, surely? He is a parselmouth- my tutelage would suit him best."

Rowena said, her voice soft, "The houses are just a formality, and I would suggest he be placed-"

"Where he feels most comfortable," Helga put her foot down. "It's clear Godric's trained him," she lifted Harry's hand without looking at it, and he withdrew it quickly, "-and I feel that this wayfarer has braved enough in his lifetime to feel comfortable with-"

"Minor Lordlings and brash, simpering-" Salazar said derisively.

Helga and Rowena were unamused, but Harry suspected for different reasons.

Helga put her hands together tightly but Rowena said, like ice, "He will seek guidance from us all, as do all _our_ pupils."

Salazar held her gaze as he dipped his head, "Yes, my lady-"

Rowena's mouth pursed. She ran her fingers through her long hair.

"If it's all the same, could I _not_ be placed with students?" Harry asked.

Hufflepuff simply pointed at his items on the floor, as she yanked the chair back into a twig. "Gather your things there." Her tone was sharp, and Harry felt that now was not the time to stand his ground.

Harry trundled his things up.

Slytherin turned to Harry, "Helga will send a pupil whom you share a common talent with to guide you to the chambers-," he looked pointedly at Helga who gave him a wide eyed tight smile, "-where ever they be located-" he said delicately generous, "-and I bid thee a safe and fair eve."

Helga, eyebrows high and staring at Salazar, did not say anything other than, "Come now," and swept Harry down the stairs.

Harry followed her, trying to keep up with her pace as he balanced his gear.

"Is Godric going to go protect the muggles?"

There was a bitter edge to Hufflepuff's voice, "Godric thinks that there can be a treatise- which muggles he may protect, I am not sure. Whether it will be protection for the better or for worse, who can say?"

"He's going alone?"

"Fret not- he takes his cadre with him." She was warm again. Seeing his uncertainty, she clarified reassuringly. "His students and vassals that have sworn fealty to him. I doubt there is a wizard alive that could beat him in a battle or duel."

"I don't understand- he is bringing his students to fight wizards?"

Hufflepuff swept down the stairs. "You sound concerned but about his students? Or about battling wizards? For he is not battling _wizards,_ as I have said. Muggles would only pose a threat to many of the witches and wizards untrained in their students are of age and he takes only volunteers, though his vassals volunteered themselves long ago."

She walked into the Dining Hall, and Harry saw that the four long tables were two. At that, only one side was seating. Two great fires with a spit roast on either side filled the hall with a savory sweet smell- almost sickening to Harry. The enchanted ceiling still shone with the wintry light of day, but it was the only thing that seemed familiar to him. He allowed himself to look at it, pushing past memories that seemed closer to the surface than usual.

Hufflepuff knocked on the table twice and a plate appeared. "Beautiful, no? It took us days. Salazar was quite insistent in his vision and I think he was right. Have you ever seen anything like it?"

"No, never." Harry said, but then remembered fragments, like burnt paper, floating between sandstone pillars, and said under his breath, while Hufflepuff went to carve him some meat, "Not... _here_ at least."

Harry looked around at some of the scattered students, most in strange smatterings of tunics, coifs, short boots and robes who all took turns politely wandering their eyes over him as he stood by the door entrance.

Hufflepuff called out, "Leofrick, Tristan, a favor please."

Two nearby young men,who had been quietly eating, stood up. One bowed and the other quickly washed his hands in a bowl, his mouth full.

Hufflepuff placed a platter of meat beside them and presented Harry. "This is Aaerer."

"An error, my lady?" the one who still had food in his mouth said, bemused. "Or a harrier?"

" _His_ name, Leofrick, his _name_ ," Tristan smacked his hand on Leofrick's shoulder, and then shook him.

Hufflepuff reached out her hands to Harry, "Give me your things."

Harry began to protest, but she ignored him saying, "Tristan, please come with me. Leofrick, will you keep our new pupil in good company while I prepare his room?"

Leofrick looked bewildered, "Why am I not going with you?"

Helga said with emphasis, "Merlin, Leofrick." She turned to Harry. "Aaerer- I have much to attend to this evening, but if you need anything don't hesitate to ask, or come find me. Hogwarts will always offer assistance if it is asked for." She smiled and patted his shoulder reassuringly, tugging at his bundle. "You can ask Leofrick, for now."

Leofrick sheepishly looked at Harry.

Hufflepuff took his things from him, sliding them into her sleeves. "Come along Tristan."

Tristan dipped his head to Harry, giving him a half smile and then rushed after the Founder.

Leofrick let out a nearly wistful breath, and looked at Harry, "Well." His dirty blonde hair was moppish, and he had the beginnings of a beard that didn't quite suit the serious tunic he wore, though his manner was very self assured. He gestured to the plate that Helga set out for him.

Harry took his seat, and Leofrick said, "The table conjures by knock. One knock is your wash bowl, two for a plate and three knocks for the drink."

Leofrick knocked three times near Harry and a wooden goblet appeared. "So when did you get in?"

"Er- this afternoon." Harry looked around for a fork or anything else besides the slab of meat on his plate.

"No, I meant, when were you admitted to the school."

Harry bit down on his first response and traded it for another, "Is- is there silverware?"

"Silver-? Do you mean a knife?"

"Sure," and watched as Leofrick gave him the knife he had been using.

"It's only iron, but I'm working on enchanting it in Salazar's lessons. Where do you hail from?"

"Uh." Harry was struggling to get a bit of meat on the knife.

Leofrick watched him as he took a sip from his own goblet.

Harry, feeling pressured, "Where do _you_ hail?"

"I am Leofrick, son of Emma of York and Aethelred of Wessex. House of Wessex. My father is an Earl." Leofrick had tacked on a few more clarifying sentences before Harry recognized he was waiting for a reaction.

Harry said, "Ah," realising many things at once: that he was going to have to eat the meat with his hands, that his hands were filthy, and that he had no idea what being the son of an Earl meant but he knew that it meant something.

Harry put down the knife, "Is there-"

Leofrick passed him the washing bowl.

"Your accent isn't like anything I've heard. Not that there's anything wrong with your speech, precisely." Leofrick said.

Harry washed his hands in the bowl and resolved to pay attention to how he was hearing things as they were said, "Yeah I suppose," Harry stuck a large portion of meat in his mouth to buy time.

"Are you from Wales? I think Hufflepuff is from Wales, and probably so's Merlin-" Leofrick seemed content to ruminate aloud. Harry wasn't sure what Merlin had to do with anything, but finally realised how hungry he was once the meat hit his mouth. It was largely flavorless and found himself wishing for the fare he had with Morgana's acolytes.

"Oh, you've a familiar. Snakes are quite difficult, I've heard." Leofrick seemed determined to make conversation.

Harry looked down at the snake on his neck. The snake looked at him, and he smiled a little. "Well, I think being able to talk with Snake makes up for it."

"Talk- with... the? Snake." Leofrick looked deeply confused.

"Erm I meant-" Harry backpedaled. "Don't you just chat with animals - to- er feel better or when you're thinking? Anyway, do you like it here?"

Leofrick politely let Harry change the subject. "Hogwarts is a haven. It's been wonderful away from the pious, and the political mire out there. I myself am not going back home. Not that I would have wanted to."

"You're allowed to stay in Hogwarts over the summer and such?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Harry shrugged and ate more of the meat. "I would have liked to never go back home. It's good that Hogwarts doesn't send their students home if they don't want to go."

Leofrick watched Harry eat in silence before Leofrick said, "Ho- Tristan! Ah, and yes,- Merlin. How do you do?"

Harry saw that Tristan had returned with a disgruntled and irate looking student.

Tristan formally bowed, so deeply that his long brown hair swung over his shoulder, and when he righted himself his hand lay over his heart. He said, "I am Tristan, and this is Merlin."

Merlin's hair was in disarray, with no cap. He was wearing a shoddy, dirty robe. Beyond the dirt, it was tied up much in the way that the acolytes had shown Harry how to tie his robe while he was doing chores. He didn't say anything, continuing to glare at Harry intensely.

Harry smoothed down his own hair reflexively, but it was too long and he ended up getting his fingers painfully caught in his hair.

Merlin let out a huff. "Demons breath, I swear. I was busy- if Helga hadn't come with you, Tristan, I don't know if I'd still like to call you friend."

"Yes, well, it's because Hufflepuff knows you've a soft spot for me, so you'd better work on that."

Leofrick turned to Harry and shrugged apologetically.

Harry said to Merlin, "I don't think Hufflepuff wanted to disturb you anymore than Tristan wanted to- it was Slytherin's suggestion."

The three young men all were taken aback. Harry felt his calm acceptance of his situation begin to fray.

Merlin was the first to recover. Intrigued, he said, "Oh? You've met with both Hufflepuff and Slytherin?"

"If you want to get back to work, I am sure I can figure out how to get to my room. Me- I don't care."

Tristan looked between Harry and Merlin, while Leofrick tossed up his hands.

Merlin said, "I trust you're done with that."

Harry looked down at his mostly gone meat slab- he had eaten it much faster than he had wanted to.

"Please, let us excuse ourselves.

Leofrick, talking mostly to himself, "Am I the only one with civilised manners around here?"

"Good meeting you, Aaerer." Tristan nodded respectfully again and took his original seat beside Leofrick.

"See you around, Leofrick, Tristan," Harry said, "and thanks."

Merlin paused just outside the Dining Hall, "Are you under Slytherin's guidance now?"

"No, I don't think so." Harry said, wondering if he was talking about being sorted.

"Hufflepuffs, then?" Merlin pressed, a note of surprise.

"No- I don't believe I'm to be sorted."

"Sorted-" Merlin looked a little upset that he was confused and took a moment to remeasure Harry. In doing so, he spotted the snake at his neck.

Merlin said, friendly, " _Hello scale-fellow, you seem to have found poor comfort against the chill."_

The snake picked up its head and under Harry's jaw said back, " _Warm, I am, regardlessss."_

Harry then thought he knew what Slytherin meant by shared talent. "You're a parselmouth as well."

Merlin looked mildly affronted, "I am not, I just know that all beasts have a tongue."

Harry said, "I've never heard of people being able to learn how to speak to snakes and not be parselmouths. Then again, I didn't know I was one for years."

Merlin, " _You can speak then?"_

" _Yes, I can speak."_ But something was different, Harry could tell, and a hard knot in his tongue was suddenly noticeable. Harry moved up glasses that weren't there, then sighed pinching his nose.

Merlin nodded his head up a flight of stairs. "Your chambers are this way."

Harry had many questions, but didn't want to expose that he was from really _too_ far away.

"Where are you from?" Merlin asked.

Harry closed his eyes and threw his head back.

"I'm not asking if you have a title, I could give less than a rat's fart about that. I am curious because you know Common, you speak to Beasts, and you know Welsh, but you have an accent in all of them."

"You speak all the same as well," Harry said defensively, not realising that there were any differences in the languages that he had spoken except parseltongue. It was probably why Leofrick had apologised and Merlin had taken such an interest.

"I was born in North Umbria, but by a series of dire events was bound to Welsh land and eventually my...talents… convened with a mentor, Lord Salazar Slytherin. Is your story the same?"

Harry, unsure where North Umbria really was, replied, "No, I'm from… far. Far away."

"I take the time to study 'far, far away' places. Do not fear that you'll receive judgement from me about your origin. I only care if you have a brain in your head and a heart in your chest."

"Most recently I've lived… across the water."

"The Kingdom of Dublin is not so far away."

"Er, no, not Ireland."

"If you've reason not to tell me just say so."

Relief, like a sparrow, took a twig of tension from Harry's shoulders. "I've definite reason to not say so."

Merlin scoffed. "Fine then. I can understand being guarded in this day and age."

"Why's that? I'm new to the area and Godric didn't tell me much."

Merlin tossed up his hands, "I don't know if I can help you see what is plain for all with eyes."

Harry's impatience, despite his efforts, became obvious.

Merlin met Harry's eyes with a piercing hazel gaze, and in a flicker, Harry saw that he had decided something.

Merlin turned back to the hall and began to explain, "It's constant bloodshed- political maneuvering for land, people and beliefs. Wizards are holding less power over the world as they've become sepulchered."

Seeing Harry's studious confusion, Merlin tried another approach, "I studied with the Druids in Ireland for seasons, thinking that there would be some of the ancient ways left there. I learned all that I could from them- and then, druids of North Umbria."

His tone changed from melancholy to disgust. "It's been polluted, vastly, corrupted by this new 'god'. Here is the same, except a thousand times worse. Wizards are withdrawing into themselves, they see Muggles as a poison to magic, and Muggles are turning on themselves... and magic."

Harry, pressing his teeth over his lips, offered, "Does this have anything to do with Godric going to the nearby muggle village tonight?"

Merlin, something akin to pity and anger in voice, "Most certainly it does."

He stopped before a statue and turned to Harry. "Here are your chambers," Harry recognised the floor between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor 'll have to state your name and then set a password and it'll open. _Goodbye._ "

"Wait." Harry said. "Thanks- I appreciate it. I know you're busy."

Merlin nodded awkwardly, and Harry continued, "If you need help- I would like to return the favor- so it's not just Slytherin and Hufflepuff pushing us around."

Merlin didn't move for a second, "I suppose you're full of mystery enough for me to be curious. You might even be useful. I'll be here in the morning."

Harry nodded and watched him leave with a gut feeling that Merlin and he were more alike than it appeared.

He looked to the statue of a knight. "I am Harry Potter."

The statue, a man in a crown with a round shield, bowed his head, and said, "Password?"

Harry paused for a moment and said, "Ron, Hermione, Draco."

The knight stepped aside and the door behind it opened.

* * *

 _Scene ii: Huckmuck_

It was several days before Godric returned.

Harry was in the Forest, not currently Forbidden, with Merlin. They saw three riders go by, Godric at their head. Quickly stashing their ingredients, they tried to make it back to the castle so that Harry could speak with him, but the Lord of the Red House had shut himself in his chambers.

Tristan informed them that he was bloody, and silent to even Hufflepuff.

Merlin agreed with Harry that it was best that he wait for answers, though, he too wanted them immediately.

Harry navigated his budding friendship with Merlin with surprising ease, finding that he was unable to situate himself on common ground with any of the other students. The other Founders had met with him briefly in public intervals, inviting him to attend their lectures or demonstrations at different times with two or three other of their students.

Hufflepuff had invited him to the kitchens early one morning, where he had seen his first witch peers. Fighting melancholy, he learned how Hermione had kept their food supply from running out with conjuration.

Ravenclaw lectured on what he thought was Arithmancy before she began an incomprehensible ritual that involved the Black Lakes muck and disrobing under the light of the moon.

Slytherin's lectures were based on the independent research questions which the students led themselves, and then in turn shared what they knew. Merlin, despite the classes evident focus on enchanting, such as Leofricks futile alchemical silver quest, asked about runes with a particular focus Slytherin was quite keen on avoiding.

He and Merlin planned to ambush Slytherin with similar questions the next morning at his lecture.

Harry had been having a terrible time sleeping the past few days, and this night was no different. Nightmares and ill ease plagued him, though when he woke he could never remember anything about the dreams. Just a ringing loneliness and cold memories.

When Harry woke the morning after Godric's return, he physically missed his simple room with the song bird at the sill.

He felt frustrated, but became reluctantly motivated by remembering he was to attend Slytherins lecture with Merlin in a short time. But, his canopy bed was heavy, and the room was dark and he felt that even if he did get out of bed, he would be getting no-where.

Snake slithered over his coverlets, " _Rats are no where to be found, and I am making hunger sounds."_

" _There may be something in the forest for you- if you wish to hunt. I'll go after the lecture. Or did you want me to get you something from the kitchen that's already dead?"_

" _Hunt."_

Harry rubbed his face and left the warm, dark bed for the cold room and dim fireplace. The windows were quite small, and let very little light in, and Harry once again thanked Morgana that he was able to see without glasses.

As he shrugged on a large loose shirt and tucked into leggings he noted that nearly all of his soreness had gone.

" _It must not have gone well- with Godric."_

Snake pooled themselves in the imprint Harry had left in the bed, listening.

Not bothering to tighten the strands of his shirt, he pulled on the robes that the acolytes gave him, and ran his fingers through his hair irritatedly.

" _Am I an idiot, snake?"_

There was no response, and Harry sighed, " _Merlin's asked so many questions, I've had to tell him a bit about how I came to Hogwarts. I've been considering telling him the whole thing."_

Snake was still. Harry reached out his hand, and allowed Snake to coil around his arm.

" _I won't though."_ He said, a little angry. He noticed that rage pumped through his veins much more easily, almost as bad as when Sirius fell through the veil.

" _I will be asking him about his opinion on Slytherin and Gryffindor. I think he too has reservations about this whole mess."_

Snake said, " _Manling is right to quessstion."_

Harry belted his warm tunic together over the robes and left his room.

 _"Thank you. Now if only I could figure out how to reach Hermione, Draco and get back to them while maybe fixing this timeline I'd be just right as rain."_

Godric stood like a bulwark outside his room.

Harry stopped just short of hitting his head on his chest.

"We're training."

Harry said, "Hey! Not a chance! You have to tell me what's happened- what's going on?"

Godric's jaw clenched, "Nothing you need to know."

"It's not fair I get landed here and you're supposedly on this quest and what- it just gets dropped and I along with it?"

"I have other _duties._ " Godric said, voice tense. "You are not my only student, nor my only responsibility, but I am _here._ "

A harsh creature was barred just beneath his controlled surface.

"I don't want to be your responsibility." Harry, struggling to remember the peace of the Isle and his lessons, tried to communicate.

Harry said with difficulty, "I appreciate you being here, though."

Godric, uncomfortable, turned away.

Harry pressed, "I just want to know what's happening and I can't figure out how to ask that without giving away something that might be dangerous."

"I killed many men and lost one of my own. The town of Hogsmeade is bloody. More will still die, and Vikings will still pillage and plunder as they see fit. That is what happened."

Harry felt Godric's pain of failure and misery keenly. He remained silent but walked at pace with Godric until they reached the green barmkin before the field that Harry knew to be the Quidditch pitch. There was nothing in the field.

Harry saw about four students his age, all stand. Godric said, "Sparring today, watching and testing."

The young men, all wearing loose shirts and tall boots, holding staves, rose up.

Godric launched into an explanation of a particular movement and then held out his hand for a staff. One of the young boys threw it at him and Harry realised he recognised none of them from his time at the dining table or in various lectures.

Godric demonstrated with a dark haired boy with a bruise on his face. Harry watched as he was upended and thought about Merlin's comparatively unique interests and reservations. He had asked Harry about his past lessons with Gryffindor, and Harry explained that Godric had only been his teacher for a while.

He watched as Godric pointed the end of the blunt quarter staff at the head and belly. Merlin had nodded respectfully, stating that the Lord of the Red House was a renowned warrior, but he had taken to asking him questions about other things.

Harry joined the small class as Godric paired the groups together. They worked for a time. Harry was loaned a staff from a tall red-head that reminded him of Ron a little too much, and felt a bit better after swinging it handily.

Harry could tell he had surprised Merlin by recalling Alula's, Ceredwyns and even Drysi's, lore. And, feeling at ease as they switched partners and went into secondary defensive positions, he knew he had surprised himself as well.

He felt more comfortable using intuition, and had explained his conflict of insight with Bodhmalls lesson about the kelpie. Merlin had warmed considerably after his re-telling, and had taken him into the forest to show him a leaf that they could possibly use to contact the kelpie again.

After he launched his sparring partner into the icy dirt, Harry spotted Merlin, who, in his robes and stiff posture, looked to be out of place.

Harry hailed to him, "Merlin! I didn't know I'd be sparring- I promise I haven't forgotten." He then jogged over to his sparring partner, an irish boy by the name of Biod Barry, and helped him up.

They met in the middle, a fair distance apart from the others.

Merlin raised his eyebrows for a second as a greeting to Biod, and said, "Getting worked up over this?"

"Want to join in?" Harry offered.

Barry's heavy breathing turned a bit more wheezy and he covered his face.

Merlin drew his eyebrows together quickly, " _And where's your familiar? Not taking hits for you?"_

Harry shook his head. Snake had long since slithered off to the grasses. "C'mon. I'll be your partner."

Harry thought it was nothing to join others classes or training sessions. All the lessons felt very casual to him, as nothing came from a book, and there didn't seem to be a boxed in classroom setting with any of the lectures. Especially not Rowena's, though he stamped that debacle out of his mind.

Barry looked to the others, and finally gave over his staff to Merlin once Godric tilted his head back to state that his attention was given.

Harry suggested to Merlin, "You may want to take off your robe."

Merlin scoffed and took the staff out of Barry's hand.

Harry said, pleased his friend was joining in, "Alright, you've seen it then, have you? Try it out on me." Harry affirmed with Merlin that he was ready, and came at him.

Merlin said, " _Expelliarmus_."

Harry, laughing in surprise, released his staff and instinctively whirled to catch it. Harry reached for Expelliarmus as he would an old friend, calling to it in the way he was able to disillusion himself on the isle.

Merlin's staff flew out of his hands with a shocked look on his face. Harry executed the knockdown move with momentum.

Harry laughed, and reached out his hand to Merlin who looked afraid, bewildered, then indignant.

After a few reactionary cries and laughter from their audience Harry realised that something was wrong as Merlin dusted his robes and with mottled colors in his face, stomped off.

Godric, with intensity said, stopping Harry with a firm hand,"What was that?"

Harry looked back and forth between Merlin and Godric, knowing he was missing something.

"It was a disarming technique. I'll be back." Harry tossed his staff to the grinning red head and ran after Merlin.

Merlin was walking very quickly but Harry was used to running, so he quickly came abreast.

"Merlin-"

"Aerer, you must tell me now how you knew of the spell." Merlin whirled to face him.

Harry scratched his head.

"I've been able to accept a level of uncertainty and ignorance regarding your identity and your origins but this- _this_!"

Harry trying to pacify him, "I learned Expelliarmus many years ago and have used it-"

"No- impossible," Merlin gripped his shoulders.

Harry thrown by his conviction started slowly, trying to gently release Merlins hands from his shoulders, "I'm telling you the truth."

"I invented the spell, you cannot have been using it for years."

"Not wandlessly or wordlessly," Harry tried to extenuate.

"I've had no opportunity to use it. You've not been near my spellbook long enough to unlock it and steal it-"

"I haven't stolen anything."

" _Then explain!"_

Thinking of his words earlier to Snake, he remained silent.

Disgusted at his hesitation, Merlin trudged up to the castle.

Harry rubbed his neck, feeling the cold bite at the sweat on his skin.

* * *

AN: UGH finally. I sat on this for so long, and for that I am sorry. I've been waiting for Merlin to make his appearance for SO LONG- please let me know what your first impressions are of him and the Founders!

The next chapter will be coming much faster than this one- as I have broken it up into parts.


	18. 0: II: 17: Opia

**Act II: Render**

 _:The woods are lovely, dark and deep,_ _but I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep_ _:_ Robert Frost

In which respite for Hermione does not mean rest, and the things that grow thick in the dark forest are harvested.

 _Content warning: graphic depictions of violence, and torture, and character death scene._

 _Chapter 17: Opia_

* * *

When Hermione could not be negotiated out of her objectives, Kage listened to her speak about her experiments with magic.

Kage responded with a tour of her estate's many occupations. The estate consisted of separate buildings, plotted along a forest and a large hill. The living quarters were connected by outdoor hallways, the rectangular structure sequestered by the edge of the forest. A flat area, lined like a garden bed but filled with stone, edged the North and West of the living quarters. A pond with flowers trimmed the Eastern side of the residence hall, winding along the path to the stair and courtyard Hermione had climbed up to when she first arrived.

"Most of your time is centered here. I will show you the borders where you may walk. Also, where I may be." Kage took her along the pathway back to the main stairs. It was chilly, and lightly snowing, but the moss grew a grey green in the bark and the leaves of the trees caught many of the flakes.

They approached the first courtyard that Hermione had come to. The two attendants, who Kage had introduced indirectly, Moriko and Fuyuko, had been nameless and silent when they greeted her. Behind the small shrine, she saw again the well she had been instructed by Fuyuko to wash her hands and feet from.

Hermione asked, "What was the purpose of washing from this?" The well was inset between stairs that led North to the main hall.

Kage responded, "Often my estate is open to the public for certain functions." Kage gestured to the South. Painted pillars with black inked wood tokens lined the Southern stairs down into the forest. She then pointed to the West and North pathways and walked past the well, dipping her fingers inside of the water.

Hermione wondered how big 'the public' was that Kage referred to and went to take a closer look at the well.

"The well is used for cleaning. It is important to do so before they approach the main house." Kage turned to her at the top of the stair, nearly a vertical slope.

Hermione looked into the water. It was clear, but growth and small plants with dirt lined the stone and still water. From the open mouth, the teeth holding a sphere,water slowly drizzled into the trough. She put a hand to her chin and tried to lessen the sound of doubt, "Hmm, I see."

Kage said, turning, "It is not important to understand everything, but during your time here it is important to learn a few things and act accordingly."

Hermione said, "I suppose…" she quickly went after Kage. Her wand was in her room, set inside a box when she had dressed in her kimono. "I'm still not sure I understand what you have told me so far."

Kage continued, her voice getting lighter with the distance, "We must work to make things pure."

Hermione was very glad that Kage's back was turned to her so that she could express her doubt on her face, at least but then she saw what could only be a castle. She approached, bowing when Kage did, taking off her sandals before reaching the wooden platform that marked the inside. Kage showed her two large rooms with dark wood and bright light, what she explained as a dining hall and an audience chamber with a single cabinet. There was a room that looked like an office, with scroll cases neatly tucked into their own case, and then a practice hall with weapons on racks. Hermione felt that she hadn't been shown every room but could not understand what part of the hallway could be moved and which panels were stationary.

Kage showed her where to cook her day meals. Each day she would learn _how_ to cook and what, and working towards purity would extend here, too. She would learn from Fuyuko a new philosophy of food, and understand a concept of what a meal was. Kage told her what cleaning she was responsible for and that her attendant, Moriko, would instruct her and show her how and what to clean.

Even bathing was specific. She saw three seats, each with their own bucket, near the rinsing station in the natural hot spring. During instruction, Hermione blushed as she realised that bathing was intended to be communal. Hermione quickly promised to follow verbal instructions. Sensing her discomfort, Kage had stood just outside the doorway and graciously aquiested to her time for solitary bathing, much to Hermione's relief.

Most of her day would be spent on cleaning, and food preparation, and her remaining time would be spent with Kage, beginning with dinner. Kage left her to prepare for sleep, explaining that her small bag of personal items should be placed out so that they could find appropriate houses for them.

At this, Hermione thought it was a matter of word choice. She learned from Moriko, later, in front of her small cabinet, that she was wrong, and there were many things that she did not know about her items. Like they needed houses. That her objects were to be honored as beings- all her objects, not just her wand. It was a novel idea that she sort of accepted as folklore, her tongue firmly held.

Hermione lay awake, looking at the faint moonlight palming the paper of her walls, and glassing the floor and wished she had brought more than the one book, though Kage had insisted she was to only bring fifteen items total. Crookshanks was at the castle, unable to be brought along and unable to go back with Lily without raising questions. She felt alone, and worse, guilty about it.

Hermione covered her eyes with her hands and pressed back the tightness that built in her, longing for the dreamless sleep draught. Eventually she slept, though she could not tell when. Vulnerability and anxiety waking her. Her dreams were cinematic, the shadowy cloaked figure a presence behind her as she went from sand to silt, teeth tearing into flesh.

She woke and the sound of a bell vibrated the chill of her room. She didn't know if she woke because of the bell or the bell had rung because she woke, though she snorted at how silly it would be if it rang _because_ she awoke.

Half-way through trying to wrap her obi, there was a sprightly voice, saying a phrase in Japanese.

"Ye-ess?"

And the door opened and Moriko slid in, and shut the door, bowing to her before rising and quickly helping her with her obi.

"Moriko, right?"

"Mm," Moriko nodded.

Moriko attended her when she would wake and before she slept, assisting her with her with new clothing, laundry, and her room's light and heat. Moriko had refined features, and appeared youthful despite Hermione having no idea of her actual age.

"If you don't mind me asking, how long have you been… working here?" Hermione asked, as Moriko adjusted the knot.

Moriko said, "A long time." and tugged on the obi, ensuring it was tight enough but loose enough that Hermione could breathe.

Hermione asked, "Oh, how long?" Moriko pressed the stiff white foot wear into Hermione's hand. She tilted her head, and watched Hermione put on her socks.

The silence made Hermione pink a little, "I didn't mean to be rude. You don't have- I didn't mean,"

Moriko said coyly, " _Many_ years."

"Can't be that many, you seem very young." Hermione tied her hair back.

Moriko knelt by the door, her eyes bright, "So do you." Moriko then opened the door and bowed.

Hermione wanted to ask what she meant, but Hermione knew she was done speaking, however, when she remained bowed and silent.

Caught between her desire to do well, and her desire to do something else, Hermione struggled with finding peace in her tasks.

There were separate squares of cloth, each with their own names. Moriko had tried to introduce one cloth and task at a time, but Hermione asked the names of all the cloth's, once she understood that the cloth's had a name tied to their singular purpose. Moriko obliged but haltingly.

Hermione asked, "What needs to get cleaned today?"

Moriko gestured vaguely.

Hermione bit the inside of her lip, "What's our itinerary today?"

She pointed to the wall supports.

"Yes but what is everything we are doing today?" Hermione pressed.

But all Moriko said was, "The next step _will be_."

Her habitual nature had demanded that she move, do, and be, or at least feel productive, even if she could not measure her success. A clean floor was satisfying, though Moriko had not been particularly interested that she was done, and Hermione could not help but feel a lack of validation. Hermione thought it very tedious, not very efficient, and tried to swallow resentment as the cleaning wore on, and then the cleaning of the cloth wore on longer. She tried not to think of it as a punishment, but it was difficult when Filches detentions involved manuel cleaning.

Moriko took her to Fuyuko. Fuyuko was sharp, more directive and seemed cold. But when Fuyuko took her to pull up large white roots and showed her how to hold a knife, which knife to use, she seemed to possessed a grace that Hermione found dissuaded her from asking questions. By then she was so hungry, she wanted to just drink the broth.

More cleaning after breakfast, then after lunch Hermione asked to see Kage.

Kage met her outside of a hallway with large scrolls of powerfully rendered characters hanging on a wall.

"Is this all I am to do? Clean and cook? I just- thought it would be a little, well- different." Hermione asked, trying to sound polite.

"You are to learn a new way of being." Kage said.

Hermione shifted, she understood the words, understood some related concepts but could not actually bring herself to think that she needed to be a different way.

"Your mind must be put into the present. Cleaning is the instruction for a new way of being, this way is… pure." Kage taught as she walked her back to Moriko.

Yet, as the day wore on, She could not find purchase in what Kage termed as instruction for a new way of being.

On her second day, the first of her exercise, the snowflakes fell quickly and flurried with the wind. She felt as if her eyes were open even when she squeezed them shut. After what felt like hours, she asked Kage, "I thought that meditation was directive, an exercise in thought, so why must I focus on my breath?" The sound of Hermione's voice did not travel as far as she thought it would project.

Kage did not answer, and moved silently in the snowy garden.

Hermione thought Kage just as incomprehensible as Astrifer, but she tolerated it less because Kage appeared to be like her, a witch at least. Already frustrated and anxious, she regarded the practice of 'watching herself breathe' with an atheistic suspicion. She had read through the books on Occlumency that her room of requirement provided her, but this was more similar to the things she had read about in the muggle library and had discounted in her pursuit of magic. She already knew how to _breathe,_ she thought, if she didn't she wouldn't have made it very far in life. Kage had not yet instructed her at all like the books designs and guidelines to what she expected of mental magics. At least Astrifer structured their meetings in a way that made learning eminent, and Hermione resolved to think more tolerantly of their meetings.

Kage, for all her shaped words and good manner, was still unavoidably alien to Hermione, no matter how she tried to set herself at ease with her. It didn't help, as she waited for an answer, that she observed that her mentor made no noise, and left no imprint as she bent to lay a stone the size of her arm on the snow covered white gravel.

Kage placed the black rock, it's surface like the negative spaces of a sponge, in such a way that the placement revealed a hole. Her long black hair curtained over her face as she smoothed the sand like gravel around the stone's placement.

Hermione, uncomfortable with no answer and unwilling to raise her voice, got up, stiff and awkward in her kimono. She went to her outside sandals, left out for her.

Hermione's movement towards Kage made crunching sounds, distinct to violating driven snow on rough sand. She seized.

Kage watched her. Before Hermione could retreat, ashamed of her unexpectedly deep footprints and sound, Kage said, "You are trying to locate yourself. This is not the same as finding a solution or reason, like many of the philosophers that you refer to." Kage gestured to the small stone garden. "You must have room to observe in order to decide and create."

"It doesn't feel like it's working." Hermione tried crossing her arms, cut and cloth resisting her.

Kage smiled, a close lipped expression that sharpened her eyes, "It is not only time we lack for our pursuits."

Hermione wasn't sure, but thought Kage found her amusing in ways that made her feel as young as she looked. "Follow me." Kage turned towards the forest.

Hermione pointed around her to the stones, "You're finished, then?" Hermione did not want to say that the garden looked strange and felt empty, but also desired to show Kage that she was trying to be polite and did not wish to push- she had come all this way for help, it would do her no good to alienate the one adult who knew her situation exactly.

Kage did not look back, her kimono and voice blended into the dark of the forest shadow. "It is never finished, only tended to. I rearrange to suit my purposes."

Hermione bit her lip and crunched forward, unsure of going into the forest with her new style of dress that shelled her in ways that her school robe never did. Her sandals required more thought than her boots and school shoes she had stomped through the Forbidden Forest with.

Hermione followed Kage on a thin path, just wide enough to place a foot in front of the other, to a hill. She watched as Kage lit a thick stick of incense, using a fire cantrip without a wand. She fought the questions that she longed to ask, the silence of the forest an eerie weight on her ears which resisted breaking. The hazy smoke from the incense was thin, ghost-like, and smelled of bold reverence and meticulous thought. Kage made precise movements that whorled the smoke and shaped it.

Hermione watched the pattern snake, then hold. She was nearly kept warm with her desire to understand how Kage performed the spell. She knew from her work with ancient runes and arithmancy that there were some similarities to what she had done to treat the time sand before she had ... but as with many things she couldn't quite remember, she wasn't sure she had known.

Kage bowed over the mound, turned to Hermione briefly, then walked through the forest, in a direction they had not come. Hermione felt a humming in the beck and call of the wind, and her lips, toes and fingertips began to tingle, though she had felt them go numb long ago. The silence was a spell. She felt the tightness of her being within the air, and began to see what Kage meant about 'the texture of the air', as it began to change walking the circle of power around the estate.

They reached the mound again, and Hermione implicity knew they were done as she stood by Kage's side, facing the structure. The mound was tall, a rough hewn altar set into its front. Kage bowed and Hermione reflexively bowed with her. She felt slightly embarrassed, but understood that deference was required, in the same way that Kage had spoken to her in her head while traversing her memories. The incense had burned out, but the sky had not changed color, and the shadows remained where they were.

Kage led her back to the house, but she stopped a step away from a bank. Hermione stood on a smooth, flat, and dry river stone. The stone divided the clear, small, shallow stream she had barely noticed when they passed over it to the mound. She frowned, but joined her.

Kage caught her as knowledge forcefully slammed into Hermione. The sense of grief and desperation she had felt when she was building a new future by creating a new past, drenched her thoughts which had lingered like a tinkerer on the ritual spell that Kage had cast. Hermione's shoulders bent and her stomach roiled.

"That there would be an easier way, I would make it so. I have slowed us as much as I am able, and I have asked the goddesses that bind you to release their protection now." Kage said.

Hermione was shaken, weakened and feverish, the memories in her peeling and blooming too quickly, rotten and fresh like they had been on the day she rode the small boat into Hogwarts.

But much worse. Bloody and bare forests, blind dragons, glowing caves, a gleaming ruby sword, jeering faces in a crowd as she knelt over Luna. Ron's back turned as he left, Ron's face as he came back. Sirius as he fell through the veil, Harry's screams. The way that the centaurs looked as they dragged Umbridge into the depths of the forbidden forest. The way her breath felt as she stood, watching. How Draco glanced, the vein under his eye visible, his voice manic. Pain stinging her arm and ripping at her back. The library in Alexandria, it's halls more beautiful than she could have imagined, books darker than she wanted to know. The deep of the starry ocean, the force of her vow filling her up until she was empty. Three figures, in an ocean. It was as if she had stepped foot on the isle of Merlin's tree yesterday.

Kage with surprising strength, moved her back into the house.

* * *

In the blurry days that followed, Kage had tried to ease her mind into memories that were formative. She took her to a small inner courtyard with a bent pine. Kage would sit across from her, and then Hermione would feel the brush.

Like the turning of a page, a sense of a person very near but not touching, the memory fell open into reality.

It was similar to when Kage had opened the memory of her standing at Shell Cottage. It had been fractured, the edges in the passing of time clean. The mental magic she bent within Hermione's mind had grown, like a tide, it was as if every detail, everything that she had seen, was brought to the forefront in poignant repetition.

Painful, often traumatic, Hermione retreated into the vague and peaceful recollections of the Evanses life.

Her mummy was made of glass and sunshine, she smelled like… not sweet mint. Her Da asked questions about magic, and for the hundredth time said they were blessed, blessed by the green- not concerned that magic was just a way for people who didn't have proper work ethic to get by. She felt resentful at times, of the strange flaws her mum and da possessed, but at least it wasn't the feeling of abandonment she had forced upon herself.

The Grangers stood, nervous and awkward as Arthur Weasley asked them silly questions she suspected he knew the answers to. They were quite vocal on the way home about what they had seen, noting that things were strange and seemingly made both too easy and too difficult. She remembered when she had stopped writing them letters. It was her third year. They hadn't been too concerned, afterall, they had thought she was caught up in her studies in her second year, petrified, and her grades reflected that theory. It was a cold connection she felt with her parents, but the memory of her mother reading her a bedtime story, her father tucking her in tight was strong, binding her like the comforter over her arms. She had a great argument with them when they had taken her camping, and they were proud, though irritated she had disagreed with them on some random policy.

She had wiped away her parents memories and sent them to Australia. She took away her _parents,_ and she would never get them back, but at least she hadn't seen them die. Though wasn't it the same as burying them? Then, what was this betrayal of loving this other set of people? She hadn't known them for very long, really, so how dare she feel this way?

"Breathe." Kage would interrupt, and redirect her thoughts, retraining them. "Let us see your life in your being."

With Kage's help, both magical and prosaic, she was able to acknowledge emotions, examine them and decide what to do with the ineffable that spawned in her.

Feelings that she had never wanted were now given names and allowed to be. Minor difficulties in life were given reasons, her trouble with sleep and body illuminated through pathways in her mind to her physical being.

In these beginning stages, Kage smoothed the shame, self-loathing, hatred she had been incubating in her head for years with a sculptors touch. Her trips to the bathroom, and her appetite steadied. She was able to sleep deeply, and dreams did not plague her, cocooned as she was in Kage's presence.

It was many rests before she was able to purposefully revisit a memory of horror with intent to defeat it. The torture that she endured in the Malfoy manor was excavated. The box that Draco had helped her lock away, her terror, was vivisected from her.

Draco led her through an Occlumency lesson that he warned was patch work. Draco had told her, "It's easier to hide things where you feel familiar, something that you could easily get back to and can control."

"I don't think I ever want this back."

Draco was close, sitting forward in a chair, his knees almost touching hers. She looked away. Solemnly, he said, "Some people bury their thoughts and memories in an unremarkable field." He pressed his lips together, "Snape strongly warned against that." He imitated the silty voice, complete with posture and looking down his nose at her. "That way lies only insanity- don't be _lazy_ , Draco."

Hermione's mouth twisted, wry.

"Shall we?" Draco lifted his hands to her head, a wand in one hand.

She breathed in and looked him in the eye.

" _Legilimens_."

With his help, his eyes in hers, she had summoned up the image of her room, a week before the decision to change her parents' memory.

'All your memory and feelings about the event is to be poured into a suitable container,' Draco said, looking around the room awkwardly, his corporeality fading in some places.

She had selected a box that her great aunt had given her. She had not particularly liked it, but she could not get rid of it because her mother had said it was exceedingly valuable. She had cast _Evanesco_ on it with great feeling before she cast the memory spell on her parents. _Søkene Endringa,_ a ritual spell she had researched with the help of Viktor- she hadn't been able to contact him after the wedding, and couldn't bring herself to wonder what had happened to him.

She reached under her bed and temporarily relieved the unwanted gift from it's banishment. The boxes polish was not as clean as Hermione preferred but it had a lock. It played a melancholy tune and she summoned the memory to it, and tensing like she was going to retch, she poured all of the terrible memories of helplessness, hatred, fear and self loathing attached to her torture into it, heaving and ripping it out of her like weeds.

Draco had to help her, holding the box, guiding the strands. He had moved in her head very clumsily in comparison to how Kage came into this memory, he could only help her lock it. He threw the box under the bed, sweating, breathing heavily as Hermione rocked herself on the floor of her childhood bedroom.

Draco looked around the room and said, 'You can't get rid of it entirely.' She nodded. He had told her. His voice and face was frowning in a way that said he wished he could.

She returned to that room with Kage, and bent down to reach under her bed. Only to find the box had long since been shattered, pieces cutting at her under her nails.

Her exercises and daily work were fraught with a latching fear.

The pale sun on the snow of the grounds glittered like the chandelier. The glint of the knife as she pared thin green tubes of onions, seeing the blade Bellatrix used to carve into her skin. Then, if she was not able to catch herself, unprompted, the feel of the thick plush rug between her fingers, its roots making the cuts under her fingers shine with pain, as she was dragged through the drawing room.

She had approached Kage, intending to ask her to take these things away, she felt as if she couldn't function, and the exercises she had learned were constant work. It felt like she was at a stand still, fighting to move forward. She wanted to escape.

To discuss this further, Kage had invited her to play a game with black and white pebbles, and partake in an after dinner treat.

During the game, Hermione spoke about her difficulties, as plainly and as matter of factly as possible. "In short, I am not able to have a spare moment of wandering thought without it intruding." She asked Kage, "Is this how it will be from now on?"

Kage sipped from a small cup, "I cannot say."

Hermione flatly, no longer worried about being polite "I would prefer to learn Occlumency, then." Kage's face shifted.

Kage moved her white pebble, sharply clicking it in place with her index nail and middle finger. "I cannot teach you Occlumency." Kage set the cup down and from a little bottle, poured more fragrant warm liquid into another cup in front of Hermione.

Hermione hurried to hold it with both hands, not expecting Kage to have poured her alcohol at all. She knew what sake was, but she wasn't sure she liked alcohol, remembering the time she had downed two brandy's that Draco poured for her in a stolen living room.

"Mm- I am capable, but I am not interested in teaching you how to dominate yourself and others." Kage shrugged and moved her leg up, resting an arm on her knee. She sat wide, but she wore pants that Moriko had explained were _hakama_ when Hermione had requested a pair.

"That's Legilimency-" Hermione was concerned that Kage had gotten it incorrect, holding the cup in her hands delicately, liking how it warmed her fingertips.

Kage's hair, bound up and tied together, swung like a rope, "Ah- but you mis-understand. Occlumency is not concerned with the performers feelings as much as their _thoughts_ and it's primary purpose is _occlusion._ It hides the truth from those who would seek it, and enables the truth to be hidden from the performer."

Hermione sat and contemplated her next move, thinking about what Kage said.

As Hermione placed a black pebble and captured Kage's stones, she looked at Kage's pleased face and asked, "I assume that there is a difference between control and domination in your eyes, but does it not amount to the same?"

Kage made a petulant face, and then slyly placed a stone that caused Hermione to focus once more on the game. Hermione cautiously placed her response on the board.

Later, when the gambit Kage had put in play finished, Hermione said, "You've won, and I- I thought I was doing so well. I suppose domination and control are denotatively different, and their effects may be different as well." Then, with something akin to the panic she had felt in second year having missed most of her classes, "Are all my activities this metaphorical?"

Kage covered her mouth and her laugh was silent as she bent forward, in stitches, then seeing Hermione's serious face, placed her hands together in front of her forehead and bowed in apology. Kage hid her laughing face, "You are extraordinary for a person who has played only a few times."

Hermione huffed, "I didn't even know that was in the rules, and you did such an advanced play. I thought it was meant to teach me something."

Kage nodded, sleeves covering all of her lower face. "Tell me what you have drawn parallels to."

"The same goes for any form government." Hermione pointed to the areas where she had thought Kage made mistakes. "Those that allow for dissent must be strong enough to address it, but to allow no dissent is tyranny, and thus susceptible to the very strength it wields as weakness." She referred to her own defeat.

Kage looked at the board with interest and then tapped her chin. "Very good. It was a very close match."

"So, how do I get better?" Hermione asked, despondent over the possibility she may never regain a peaceful moment.

Kage's dark eyes were playful, "Continue to fight, of course." She finished the rice wine and continued, "It necessitates practice, but only when you can structure your battles in such a way that you can learn from them."

Hermione took in a breath, like she just remembered what she had forgotten.

"Observe," Kage said, a bright lilt to her tone, "What mistake did you think I made- here?" Kage pointed to the board.

* * *

The next day Kage met her on the patio in front of the rock garden, outside Hermione's chambers.

Kage did not need to ask her if she was ready.

They sat down and faced each other.

She would fight to remain calm, fight for control, though an icy terror ran hot through her and the memory snapped open.

Her tenuous strength she had kept, a tight pinching grasp on reality, the mantra of _never_ giving up Harry, _never_ giving into that dark moment that Voldemort would take over was the only solid thing in her scattered thoughts.

Kage walked in the Malfoy drawing room, her feet barely visible as her robes dragged on the floor in front of Hermione's vision. Kage grasped her arm and drew Hermione awayfrom where she was pinned.

Hermione was then able to conclude the memory. She was able to _understand_ it was no longer happening. She recalled Kage's words about implementation of knowledge, said to her what felt like ages ago.

She walked around the room and moved to observe Bellatrix over her, and then she examined Draco's face as she lay on the ground, until Bellatrix finished her brand. She turned to look at herself, silently crying, still pinned by chandelier fragments, held down with nothing more and Hermione swallowed, disgusted and ashamed.

Kage pushed into her, more intrusive than her usual thoughts, _you were never broken_. The thought and will of Kage to see herself as she did was a boon, that eased the iron in her throat and the hatred in her teeth.

Hermione saw Draco decide, she saw him move, and then the calvary broke out of the dungeon and she was rescued. Dobby died for it.

Yet, Bellatrix and Death Eaters were still loose. There was no telling herself they were dead, or it was over and the cost was tragically high. It became difficult to breathe in the memory, she began to suffocate, overcome with rubatosis.

Kage was there, a word of water, a muscle of breath. Hermione regained her present, and then Kage drew her outward, asking a simple question, "What is a pastime you enjoy?"

"Reading." Hermione said automatically.

"You give your entire being to the words when you read."

"Most of the time, yes."

"Then let us see if we can find that once more. Come, there are a few things that I think you will find interesting."

* * *

Memories from the last two years, and the dread weight of what she had orchestrated would find new ways to slither into her skin.

Breath became paramount so, she re-learned how to breathe. As she returned to independent exercises, she often struggled, but Kage's voice was lyrical, and she would sometimes play an instrument with a long neck and wistful notes.

Hermione didn't ask the name of the instrument, because she started to understand that she was meant to be _introduced_ to items. Kage seemed to be uninterested in her language acquisition and was more concerned with how she interacted with objects. She focused on matters she deemed more important, like what was her favorite story, a meal that she enjoyed, what games she enjoyed playing?

Her answers, it felt, were not adequate. Though honest, she felt like she was halfway between what she was and what she wanted to be.

"My favorite story is one that's...practical but had a happy ending, I can't seem to remember a particular title. Maybe a tale from Beetle the Bard?" or "I liked crempogs- I mean, pancakes, but, no, they're too sweet. I prefer fruit- but that's not a meal." And, "I don't play games, I learn them. Then, play them when other people want me to participate."

Kage had remained quiet for a long while before she asked "What activity presents a challenge for you?"

Hermione told Kage about her lessons with the bow with Astrifer and Cassiopeia. She told her how simple it had sounded, but how unused to controlling her breath and connecting her hands and eyes in the ways she needed to be successful. Kage then took her to her training hall, and Moriko dressed her for Kyūdō practice. She resumed archery, and began to practice daily, as a form of active meditation.

Kage would sometimes dress and join her, instructing her in different forms.

Hermione had felt better once she understood that there was to be a sort of energy of invocation that she was ritualistically performing with each action. She felt more confident in who she was as she valued the process and the work that it took.

She wondered aloud to Kage, stretching her forearms and looking at her hands bleed and callous, "How long will it be once I am ready to leave?"

Kage looked strong, though her powerful body was folded and curtained in the same wide linens that Hermione wore. She was still as she rose her _yumi hankyu_ style bow and released an arrow to the far target.

Hermione asked, "Time's not passing as it usually does here. Will I grow unusually quickly?"

Kage smiled her small sharpening smile that Hermione had grown to recognise as some secret amusement, and Hermione responded, "I mean, will I have to come up with a reason why I'm more grown?"

"Do not worry. Not only will you grow unusually quickly, any changes are easily illusified if one is clever enough."

Once the hardest of finding order in her was done, and her internal focus second hand, Kage was there as Hermione healed a splinched Ron.

Hermione, despite the fear and urgenc **y** of the situation,felt a sense of rightness. Ron's flesh, freckles as prominent as the specks of blood, melded together. She examined the pearly sheen to the new skin and was not sickened. Hermione remembered the sense of relief, and the nagging tick of _what if,_ the drive to know more dug into her own skin. _What if_ , sat under the moment of setting up camp.

Kage walked forward with her, following the thread, and came into Shell cottage again.

Ron's hesitant brushes of his hand over hers, his presence close, face angry as he watched her heal by Draco's hand. It hurt, this closeness, this tender vulnerability and comfort. It hurt deep in her chest and in the palms of her hands. Draco bent over her, the circles dark under his eyes, his skin waxy and tight over his fine features. Ron's blue eyes too watery and reddened as he stood over her and behind Draco, a bruise forming under his eye from where Draco had struck him.

Standing with Kage in that small room, she watched as Ron scowled at the way Draco had sighed self deprecating remarks, how he guarded the space around Hermione jealousy, and continued to do so whenever the schoolboy enemy turned ally came near. She saw Ron come into the room, angry when he found Draco teaching her to lock away painful memories.

She had not let herself remember Ron, that loss she had felt too greatly. She had not let herself remember the way that Ron had leaned in for a kiss. Too startled and too preoccupied with the heaviness of a kiss goodbye, she had leaned away. Shame and regret was a molten ache in her head and she fought to cover her own eyes at her memory.

Kage reached out and wiped a tear away from her cheek, and with that touch the memory steadied.

Ron and Draco were going to see if they could gather information. It would be a dangerous outing, more dangerous than they knew at the time.

Harry was upset, jealous of their freedom and angry over the decision that Ron's life was less valuable than his. It was necessary, Bill had agreed with Dean, to watch Draco's first chance at proving himself. Ron leaned in for a kiss goodbye and she had recoiled. After they left, she had sat with Harry. His hand on hers was clammy as he stared at the sea. She could smell the seaside heather and the salt of the ocean. They had waited past dinner, retreating as the night became too dark and the sound of the high tide too much like a creature beyond their vision. Bill, Fleur and Luna had stayed up waiting with them, the silence sticky at the blank kitchen table.

They reappeared with a slap against the air and Hermione had run to them. It had turned into a rescue for Draco's parents. It was all Ron could do to convince Malfoy to return to Shell cottage, he had relayed grimly, wolfing down food at the table.

She had never seen Draco so utterly devastated. Ron had shown empathy to Draco, approaching him with a plate of food as he stared into the fire, and for the first time she thought that they could be friends. The four of them sat in silence by the fire late into the night.

Kage ebbed away. She asked about dinner and when Hermione did not answer, she told her a tale about a particular fish that would only let themselves be killed by a willow stick, and that for dinner they would have such a gift.

After dinner, they returned to the library where Kage had first taken her to peruse her modern collection of books. Kage opened the illuminated scrolls and read her the philosophies of the material plane and their being, and the root of Buddhism from where it was written far beyond the ocean and Hermione listened.

"The words are not only an expression of the spirit, but our connection." Kage said as she hovered her hands over the words.

Hermione involved herself in admiring the letters, looking at the illustrations, "It's a masterpiece." But the longer she looked, the more her eyes caught on a blot, a mistake in the line.

Kage asked, soft, "Do you still think it a masterpiece?"

She had always loved books for what they were to her, and the subsequent feeling of them. The smell, the feel of the pages. The older the book, the more powerful the magic of it, regardless of whether it was about magic. But the process of creation had been lost to her, and those that chose to labor for five years over a reproduction of words were a mystery.

"Yes." Hermione said.

"Look at the energy of the movements. You must sense magic in them, not for what it is, but for how it was made. You told me of your invocation, how you made flour and water and childrens colors into magic. That is all of life. It is our choice to make it pure, to decide what is honorable and to live by those choices."

* * *

Hermione practiced her physical training, her breath still as she lined her sight and sunk her arrow into the target. In the stoney sauna, she stared at the lines on her arm, faint but real.

Ron was the gateway that had held up the loss of others, compounded with what she had done. Hermione's feelings for Ron were deep and complex. She knew she loved him like he was a part of her. For the longest time she thought he was a _better_ part of her. She had admired him in many ways, and yet… in the end, there were bitter notes. The fragile glass blown remembrances showed their flaws as she kept a steady eye on them and melted them into strands for sorting.

When that was settled, and she had new questions to ask, she went to find her teacher once more.

Kage brushed her paint across a mulberry paper. As the ink bled into the paper and spread Kage's word, Hermione watched the day that they had left the cottage for the horcruxes, as Ron left her and Draco in the forest, as they all entered Hogwarts castle. It slowed for just a moment when Ron had mentioned the elves and she felt like she would kiss him, but Draco had cut in and said that they would be useful.

She had met Draco's eyes, disgusted but unflinching in his advice. She agreed, but did not want to. The elves would be given a choice she told herself, but the truth was that if they chose wrong then the loss would be great.

Kage paused, seated with her bone white brush and Hermione felt a word, _here_. This is a moment of division.

Filtered over the hall she saw Neville's once round face, now strong, jaw tense. He handed the sword of Gryffindor to Harry before they left Hogwarts to retreat and disappear in Europe. Their escape to cold hearths and vicious waiting. She saw an imprint of Luna, who had come to them with heavy eyebrows and her eyes wide outside of London. Then, blood seeped and washed over the floors and hands and arms and silhouettes of bodies lay on the ground.

Flesh was torn, and opened with unhurried torture. She heard screaming and realised it was her own.

Kages ink poured over everything, a silky inky black that washed away the moment. On the darkness, snow fell. Hermione regained her breath as white covered the ground and all that she could see and emptied her mindscape once again.

Kage placed a lacquered wood tray before her. She rolled out a long piece of thick paper, thin in parts where she could see the natural fibers. She smoothed down the paper with two stones. Kage's hand took Hermione's and placed her fingers around the stem of the brush. Hands shaking, tears silently gathering and sliding down her face, Hermione let her movements be guided by Kage's hand.

When Kage released her, she felt like she had control over her own breath and practiced the strokes of ink, dab, tip, trail.

* * *

She woke. She had not needed Moriko's help, but she still greeted her. She tied her sleeves up and ran floor cloth along the floor and used another to clean the walls. What had taken her all of one morning the first day was done quickly, but better.

Then, she went to the kitchen, thinking of only making a meal. She cleaned the rice, rinsing with steady motions that she learned like wand movements and spells Ron had cast. She dug roots, like how she had done for herbology when Neville talked especially kindly with her about a plant. She presented her first breakfast to Fuyuko and Moriko and they accepted.

Moriko told her she was to walk the path. Hermione did not press her for details, and accepted this new task. She was given thin wood, smelling of crisp cedar, a warm bundle of rice wrapped in dark leaves, and bottles of perfumed sake. Fuyuko asked for her to bring back three flowers.

She walked the trails along the estate into the mountains and left one of each at various shrines. Hermione found some beauty in each flower that she collected and carefully uprooted.

She made food, absorbed in her selection of the vegetables and the washing. The order of things, as she waited for the steam to smell right.

Kage at dinner that night asked what was the silliest fashion trend she knew of. Hermione told her that she thought that branding was vapid, thinking of the 90's trends she had seen, but then retracted when she remembered what Petunia's hair looked like. Kage told her of how blackened teeth were once a symbol of beauty, but that Kage thought it was just a good way to cover rot and black sesame stain but in all practicality it made humans look like demons.

The next day, Kage arranged the stone garden and _opened_ the question again.

The images and memories cycled onto each other as the time folded.

Draco had spent time with Luna at Shell cottage, perhaps in a way that only Hermione had spent time with him. Hermione peered around to the garden, where she had stood in the doorway, drying a dish. Luna was encouraging Draco to blunt the thorns on the rosebush in the center of the small garden. Hermione approached as she was now easily able to do, leaving herself behind in the cottage, the invisible screen between herself and those she watched finally permeable.

Luna was often the only one able to get Draco to sound cheerful, if not positive. He was grumbling about how creatures should harm themselves, so they learn not to do it again. Luna said something that Hermione could not hear though she stood just above them. Draco launched into a speech and perhaps an impression of a garden gnome that caused Luna to humm a laugh here and there as he angled the cuts on the thorns just so.

Kage tucked a hair behind Hermione's ear and peeled back the odd memory that lay between Hermione's knowing and uncertainty, her regret and shame.

A lake lay below them, the moon a white press on a strong blue above. Beyond, the pale of a mountain ridge. Ron and Harry staggered away from Draco. Draco grabbed her arm as she slipped on a stone. They had escaped Hogwarts after a clever mis-direction that Draco had performed, requiring most if not all of the elves to use their magic, and they had fled to a lodge in Switzerland. They were safe, but Hermione felt torn. She ripped her arm away from him, and Draco's mouth tightened and he looked away, pale and sweating from exertion. She hadn't thought apparition across the sea could be _done_ let alone with four of them.

They were supposed to have split up, but Hermione would not leave Harry. Ron, after leaving once already, would not leave again. Malfoy had been to the cottage with Zabini and Madame Zabini, and took them here. He hung back, unsure now that they had arrived. Harry broke in.

Draco approached her that night, his steps a dampered click on the stone of the kitchen hearth. He stood just outside the glow of the gas stove and small candle she worked by so they would not alert any eyes that watched for smoke. She conjured and transfigured food in the kitchen, a demanding process of duplication and creation that required concentration. The bread deflated under her wand and she pressed the handle of her wand atop the table.

"What." Hermione heard the cold in her voice and knew that it was not a coldness just for Draco. She felt like she had betrayed her principles. Letting Draco command the House Elves had saved Hogwarts, letting a few others battle the Death Eaters that had laid siege bought time, and they had prevented Harry from leaving. Draco had made an excellent case and combined with Hermione's reluctant recital of the old magics of Hogwarts, had made an impenetrable argument. They wouldn't be able to hold the castle, not for long, but long enough.

She felt responsible for the deaths, the ones they found and the ones they didn't. The disappearance of Luna was an icy and heavy stone in her chest.

Neville was grim, he handed the blade of Gryffindor, still wet with Nagini's blood to Harry. Severus Snape was missing as well, but that wasn't a concern to them, not yet. It felt like the first slip into a compromise that put her one step closer to the dark edge.

Hermione watched as Draco crossed his arms and peered at her. His expression was shadowed, as she had been turned towards the deflated bread. He said, "I lost her, it was my fault. You were right to be reluctant about the keystone- I was arrogant and shouldn't have forced Potter."

She refused to look at him.

Hermione turned to the shadows and for the first time dismissed the memory herself.

Kage's string instrument faded. In contrast to her usual quiet distractions she gestured to a bucket with ice and asked if Hermione would like to learn something new, or if she would like to return to her work at the bow.

Hermione soaked her fingers in ice, cooling a hot sense of shame that had slapped her. Kage handed her an instrument, naming it _erhu,_ and Hermione felt introduced. She didn't think that she would ever be good at it though it was patient enough with her clumsy tries.

After dinner, she and Kage returned to the lakeside house in her head.

The days passed quickly, Hermione determined to see the tense negotiations between the four of them and acknowledge their pettiness. She flicked past the decision to go to the South of France, her blush betraying her discomfort and causing Kage to bend the string of her instrument in a note of inquisitiveness, though she never asked.

It was to follow the thread of the problem they had come to initially, Hermione reassured. They had been doing so well, Hermione looked to Kage, but then- something had changed. Ron and Draco and Harry had made some sort of _treaty,_ Hermione tried to explain.

The sun rose and set over the small muggle villa in the South of France.

Harry, Ron, and Draco went out for a pint and had smuggled information had been lucky, she told Kage, as they stood beside the family sized table where she was growing further huddled in timidity. The family at the Switzerland vacation home could have returned and said something, she echoed her words she had said to the three at the table. The anti-muggle sentiment was still strong in the mainland. She had read about the history.

But their risks and forays into Muggle villages became adventures into Magical ones, and the need soon returned to all of them to be in the thick of it. Harry's call to arms was eating at him, he felt he had abandoned people. It was he, afterall, that needed to slay Voldemort- and there was no clever trick or assassination that Draco could plot and Ron to plan to prove him otherwise.

The countryside greyed and blackened and trees, sparse and bearded stood about. Hermione added, by way of explanation, they had remained undiscovered getting back in the country only because she had suggested Muggle transport.

The trend of going out for a pint was discontinued in the small backwater towns, Hermione had put her foot down and their campsite up. Hermione played this moment out a little longer, dreading what was next, but curious, and wanting to see again something that she hadn't quite understood.

Draco's hair was long, in his face, the white of his shirt dulled his complexion.

Ron picked back up the empty bread bag, his mouth full. "London would be good."

"Hermione told you not to eat all of it-" Harry admonished Ron.

Draco said again, "Not only for food, but because magical signatures are harder to track."

Ron shrugged, "I didn't know she needed more than a slice.'Sides, if she needed more than that it wouldn't hurt to eat the rest of it, right?" Ron looked towards Draco for support.

Harry looked at Draco suspiciously and then sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes under his glasses and pushing them back to the righted position.

Draco was still locked in a battle of wills with Hermione, and had not turned away. He sucked in his lower lip, teeth tight. She looked at him and his face moved in an odd way, like he was fighting not to smile. Then he stepped closer, eyes more magnetic than usual, "No, you're right. You're always right. Our next goal is getting close- close enough, at least. I didn't eat mine- wasn't hungry."

Hermione had been confused, and stepped back, towards Ron, intending to break away from this eye-contact battle. The observing Hermione hurriedly reached out and ripped the scene into a swarm of nightlife.

Kage blinked and her music stopped, the chatter and sounds of the city edges of London rose. Hermione stood, looking at herself in a winter scarf wrapped around her face and her hair under a cap, and a disguised Harry beyond the doorway to the shittiest hotel they could find.

She would have gone out, except- the blush returned, hidden by the scarf. Ron had gone anyway, and Harry remained behind, sensing her upset- but that wasn't important.

They came back too quickly, and almost as soon as her memory had shut the door, it was open again. Someone had recognised Draco, out with Ron, and they ran. They escaped their pursuers and found an abandoned cottage.

Luna had come to them, as if she had just escaped herself from fallout afterward. They did not question her, the blood dried dark on her pastel and floral clothes in ways Hermione could not acknowledge then.

Luna moved slowly, and Hermione felt her eyes burn and her temples waver and she struggled to move the memories forward smoothly. It stung, this concentration, as she saw Draco greet Luna and Harry go to her as well, and then stuttered as Luna led them into the trap.

Luna took them to another small cottage, one that she said she had been surviving in after her escape. Luna's wide set blue eyes were open and her voice so small that Draco's voice nearly broke in turn. It was Ron who was able to get the bloodstains out, Hermione could not. Harry was set into a mood for days, and could not seem to speak or look at Luna.

The sweet and intuitive girl would sometimes seem like a window with gauze curtains left open, where she would move but nothing would come through. Other times she seemed to be her old self again, mentioning riddles she once knew and talking of creatures they hadn't heard of in her dreamy cadence. They stayed until they needed to re-provision. Making their way. Luna their guide into some shops, avoiding other places. She had placed a strong hand on Ron's chest and Traver's passed them, stalking along beside a man with glass green eyes and curly hair whom he was having a one sided argument with.

It was after this that Luna suggested they go to see Ron's family in the light of news that twelve children were killed as punishment, with an official announcement of a coronation event. The blow to their hopes was crushing, and made them vulnerable to emotional decisions, even then, Hermione knew. Ron was too hopeful, desperate to see his family again and so they went. Luna took them to the Weasley's lopsided house.

Hermione stood on the grounds where she had first returned to the house. She watched her old self move forward, cautiously with her wand held aloft, Harry near her. Ron was ahead.

Luna trailed somewhere between them but held out her arms on the doorstep and did not enter. Hermione stood, stiff as Kage remained beside her. She did not need to go in the house again. She remembered. She remained on the grass as she heard her screams.

She walked the grounds, turning away from the house and looked at the sky.

That is when Ron changed.

She stated, whispering, Draco knew enough to clear blood and lay- she felt the word crawl in her mouth- flesh properly. Harry tried to wrap the bodies, but they _rose_. The memory presented itself like its grisly puppets with no strings. Hermione shut her eyes and ink poured over everything.

She told Kage in that dark, We had no where else to go except forward and closer. Luna was to send her patronus to Neville, but she no longer could summon one. Draco did not want to try. It was Harry, then, Hermione continued.

The love for her friends strength allowed Hermione to brighten her mind enough to finish the memory. It was not over, but at least, she thought, she had already faced Ron's death.

Luna took them again back to the castle. On the way she had told them three stories, the seven cursed brothers, but she had told two of them strangely, three dogs with mirror eyes became seven, and the twelve dancing princesses became seven. She did not seem to be frantic, her voice did not quail with urgency or fear.

She stopped however and sat, somewhere past Hogsmeade and began the next story so abruptly that Ron had moved forwards and Harry had to retrieve him.

Ron and Harry were conversing beyond, Ron quickly becoming explosive. Luna's back was towards Hermione and Draco, her shoulder blades lifting her loose robe and dress. She was muttering something Hermione didn't recognise as English and only now looking again recognised a word- Tuath Dé. Luna started on a story of Irish mythology. Hermione had perhaps read something of it in passing, but had not found it to be academically sound, and had written it off as a children's tale.

Draco stood, his face glossy and his eyes too wide, he looked over at Hermione. Then, he, Kage, and all of Hermione, flicked their gazes to Luna's movement.

Like a wind blew through her, Luna sagged into one of her silent spells. Her head gently tilted as she stood and her steps grew lighter, as she moved forward, her thumb twitching, twitching.

Draco, pale, grabbed Hermione. He pressed her against a tree so they would not be seen by the others and whispered into her ear the thing he suspected, 'she's cursed, but it's not Imperious, there's something wrong- it's like possession.' Hermione held onto his robe and shirt because she too was afraid. Luna was calling for them in a voice that was thin and reedy.

Ron had decided that the castle would be the way they would go, and that Hogsmeade was too dangerous. "I don't care." Ron had lowed, and Harry had punched him.

There was no right answer, but there was no decision that Ron could not make anymore.

Harry dragged Ron back up but a Thestral appeared, neighing and approaching curiously. A Disillusionment and a Patronus on the ground made their journey back to Hogwarts as safe as it could be. Neville had greeted them, gaunt, behind a shimmering barrier and a stone wall of knights.

Luna writhed as they landed, muscles wavered like water beneath her skin. She stuck out her tongue and bit down. Hermione tried desperately to hold her down, to heal her, but she scrabbled and clawed and screamed, as some dark thing stretched in her. Ron pulled Hermione off of Luna, shouting. Neville was ripping down the barriers. Harry was there on his knees with her. It was all a shouting chaos to Hermione's eyes.

Luna then eased, and swayed. She clutched at her mouth and crumpled.

"A Geas," Draco had to explain, "-a curse that binds someone like a contract. Imperius curse is a con man's short hand in comparison."

Harry held Luna, on her side so she wouldn't drown, Hermione beside him as Draco tried to heal her mouth to staunch the flow. Neville was on his knees, the castle opened, Ron seething, standing above them. Luna extended her shaking hand, still with remnants of pale green nail polish and her rabbit patronus, a small silver wisp sighed out. "Tried to say. He wanted me to get in, so I could say the word of power, can't say it if I don't have my tongue."

And that is when figures descended from the dark. They were whisked away, like a net thrown over them, dragged like a portkey to a stage.

The roaring crowd was deafening.

Her shock froze her as she stared at the motley crowd. Some did not cheer, others were fanatic. She could not register the faces as they jeered.

Voldemort stood before them, contained and malignant. He smiled. Sinister, charismatic, and insidious, he turned towards the people and spoke. "Your Dark Lord Voldemort knows all."

Ron lunged.

The battle erupted. She dragged Luna behind a bench. But Luna laid face down, still and bleeding. Draco whirled to Harry, and Harry's wand blurred at the speed of his casting. Ron was by sheer force of will and determination holding off Voldemort. Hermione leapt into the fray, stunning, freezing, silencing and blinding as she could with pinpoint precision. Harry disarmed and shattered wizards wands as they tried to seize him for their Lord. Allies hidden in the crowd came to their aid.

The sight of Draco's wand, the Hallowed Wand, enraged Voldemort, and somehow she was struck, she cried out in pain. Draco pulled her to cover, quickly trying to undo the spell, but they were losing. In his fit of rage, Voldemort had abandoned pretense of using a wand. A monsterous tentacle, a snake, a bolt poured from the abyss that Voldemort opened and directed at Harry, and Ron pulled Harry back, flinging him behind him, but the curse found its mark.

Ron spun in place, the dark bolt searing through him and winding back to Voldemort whose facade of humanity had melted away.

Harry, roaring, his wand blurring, locked Voldemort with his wand. A phoenix began to burn around Harry as the cacophony of the war became a sound of silence. Draco dragged her forward, grabbing Ron. They crashed out of existence.

Her memory stuttered like tinder failing to light.

Small spurts of the three of them on the bluff. Their journey to Egypt. Their quests after the library of Alexandria. The lonely isle.

She pulled away.

Without words, she retreated. It was the moment before her epiphany. Her decision to remake the world.

* * *

After cycles of rest and activity, Hermione had let the sediment of conflict and the disruption of death settle.

She asked Kage a question at dinner that was not their usual, on poetry, stories, history.

"Have you ever- known that something needed to be done, but felt that it was an evil thing to do?" Hermione asked.

Kage stilled and set down her bowl of rice. Her small hand brushed her lips and said, "Is it truly the thing that you are in conflict with, or is it the thing that you perceive?"

Hermione furrowed her brows, "I am genuinely asking about-"

Kage laughed, her eyes delighted half moons and her sleeve over her mouth. "Oh Hermione, must everything be certain for you?"

Hermione felt her ears heat and again was embarrassed, but resolute she responded, "Yes."

Kage placed her hands down on her lap, and Hermione watched what passed for contemplation on her face. She did not know what Kage was thinking, or if she were deciding, but must have been a weighty choice as Fuyuko came and cleared their places and left before Kage continued. "When your morality is rigid, your capacity to deal with ethics also becomes limited. The answers you seek from me are the ones you must create yourself. Nothing can be done about that- as I am not in the same opinion."

Hermione was once again frustrated at the confusing riddles she was given instead of results. She knew that in the story archetypes the person seeking to change and move forward had some sort of conflict with their lesson, but she didn't think that it was a part of _her_ reality. She had prided herself on being cleverer than the characters in her books, and had left behind fantasy and mythological Odyssey's years before her first visit to Hogwarts.

Kage said, brightly, "What is the _true_ question?"

Hermione breathed in sharply and tried to watch her feeling of anger as Kage had said she should.

"Ah," she held up her hand. "I do not need to know, I let myself get carried away with curiosity."

Hermione scrunched her nose, and looked down at the empty table, feeling irritation and then she pressed her lips together and performed the exercise of observing her feeling. She breathed in and out and understood it was frustration about time.

The edge of Kages face and by her hair line was raised, though her lips were straight, Hermione thought she recognised a smile. "It is time I think I told you how to enter as I do- a new skill now that you have shown to have a strong base."

Kage stood and went to the door that opened to the exterior patio that led to Hermione's chambers, and asked, "Hermione, you wield a wand but do you think that it is a sword or a key?"

Hermione did not quite know, at this point, what Kage meant, or expected her to say. She had sought magic as if it were a hammer, to bend the shape of the world to her will and fend off those who would make it otherwise.

Later, she would know it to be a proverbial question, meant to show her that it was one and the same.

But she followed her, hammer, key or blade or songbird.

Hermione watched as Kage knelt, and opened the door in that way that took two hands and three movements. She stepped through and Kage gestured out into the grey winterscape, the cold brushing on Hermione's face.

"What I must teach you next is to... carve a door. Once this door is carved, it cannot be uncarved."

"Is this another thing that has to do with my head? The protections you had been talking about earlier have been cleared. I can remember everything now." She said with uncertain finality.

Kage hmm'd, "Your mind. And it is not a protection, but rather what I am able to do. You see, I do things in a way that requires a different… a different viewpoint that-" Kage gestured to Hermione.

Hermione supplied, "Perspective."

"It is beyond where you stand, beyond one concept, one decision. It is a series of things that relate to one another to hold together reality."

Hermione thought of the next word to offer, world view, but thought it would also be turned away.

Kage took a long clear thumbnail and placed it just under her front tooth, and turned to Hermione as they reached the step that led to the annex where Hermione practiced her Kyūdō and asked with an expression.

The word, like the way that Kage had first made contact with her mind, blossomed, and Hermione said aloud, "Ontology, the metaphysical nature of reality and all the concepts that relate to it." She sniffed. Then, she realised that while Hermione _Evan's_ had thought about the importance of interpersonal connections, and dealt with those ideas sensitively, Hermione _Granger_ with all her doubts and bias towards more reliable means of measuring the world, was a stronger force in her head. _She_ was somewhere in the middle.

Kage led her into a small hut beyond the practice room, on another hill down past a break in the forest. They passed a stream and the dim grey light of the forest grew dark and the moonlight plunged them into patina.

Kage opened the door to a modest hut. Inside there were woven natural brush mats and small tables, herbs hung over an empty fire pit. Bowls and braziers stood on footed shelves placed along the walls.

Kage told her that Hermione would have to make the decision, but explained how she would need to find her _name_ , possess the power of herself and soul. Then, Kage would make an incision in her head so that she could open and close it like Kage had been able to do.

A tooth from some great beast Hermione did not know was set before her on a tray, along with a black lacquered writing desk Hermione recognised from her lesson in Calligraphy.

Kage explained the dangers, how this was not usually attempted. How the incision, she gestured to the tooth, once made could not be taken back, and if she was not vigilant would make her weak to the types of mind magic she had done before. Occlumency was created for control and power, and its teeth would be sharper for her.

Hermione hesitated, a bone brush in her hand, the ink ground and wet, the thick paper laid before her set down by two stones. Hermione felt quite useless, running her fingertips along the brush that she didn't feel like she knew how to use fully, still confused and wary of what this process meant to her progress towards gaining a hold over herself and her magic. Somehow, it did make sense, in a way- she felt better anyway, more whole. A sudden thought struck her, "But I can't even get my animagus form to come to me, how am I going to find my true name?" Then, thinking in the space of Kage's smooth faced apathy, an accusation, "I thought you said that there was no certainty, so how is finding a true name even a legitimate addition to your philosophy?"

"Something's inside of us we cannot decide upon when there are eyes upon us." Kage started on another path of explanation. "I will not always be there, but this is the way that I know and so you must be sure you will keep the way."

Hermione was concerned, but a thought, strong in her, asked what was one more vigilance when this was the path she had created for herself?

Kage whispered into her pause, "I will not force you."

"I understand." But unease and fear fluttered under her collarbone again. This time she did not quash it, but understood it. "I will try not to fail. Why is this not attempted, well, I mean to ask why is it that you have this ability then, if it has it's dangers?"

Kage closed her eyes and gave Hermione the first true bit of information about herself, beyond her favorite fish, the games she enjoyed, the things she liked learning about in history.

"Humans- witches and wizards, included, sorcerers, warlocks, shamans, priestesses, are not usually naturally equipped with my ability." Kage bent her head forward and her hair ran with white, like water bubbling away. Kage seemed to grow, and was _more_ , radiating a soft glow that reminded Hermione of the way the moon looked on a snowy night.

Hermione started, twitching backwards and holding up the brush like it was her wand. Kage looked up at Hermione, parting the curtain of gossamer hair. Hermione swallowed as she took in eyes a velvety twilight indigo, skin a ghostly white.

Kage's voice was still clear, but the cadence was robust, rounder and the Kage that was not the same whispered to her in her head, 'I am not as you are.'

Hermione wet her lips, many things made sense to her now, and curiosity brimmed inside of her. "I suppose, back when you said goddesses, you actually meant... beings of immense power as referred to as goddesses. Are you a goddess?"

Kage smiled, and it was not close lipped. Sharp teeth flashed in the shadow. "Sometimes." Kage pointed, her nails longer, sharper and black. "Go to the stream, make your mark and I shall -carve the door, so. We can't wait all century for you come into divinity, can we?" Kage's amusement was plain, but Hermione dismissed it as an incessible joke, one of many that Kage had made throughout their dinners.

"How? I've never read about this before, and I am sorry, but sometimes your instructions are quite lacking." Hermione hated the way her voice sounded in the shade of Kage's being and the thrum of the new voice.

Kage cocked her head. "Do you truly see the way I have shown you to be?" It was not a question, and Hermione did not repeat herself for further clarification, whether out of stubborn pride or acceptance of a challenge.

Kage changed again, black running down her hair and she shrank on herself, "I am to go to the village." Hermione had known of the village but did not think that Kage left the grounds. "I am expected."

Hermione had also known that while their time was lengthened, it was not at a standstill- but had no idea of the real time outside the grounds. Hermione did not know if she would need Kage, and struggled with the confidence that Kage seemed to feel that she warranted.

Kage bent the cloth of the exit, and nearly left before turning back, "Be prepared for death." Dressed in clothing quite different from her usual, Kage looked changed. Her face looked stronger from this angle where Hermione sat, knelt still with her brush hovering over the ink.

Hermione's face must have shown her sudden trepidation and Kage clarified, "Not all death is an end, but as we know it, a change." She stared at Hermione for a moment more, and then without any comfort, left her.

* * *

It was in the hotspring, the streams end, that Hermione was able to look at herself. Moriko and Fuyuko set hot coals and potent herbs in the natural rock and left Hermione to sit and meditate. Though Kage was absent, she settled into her breathing and had let her mind create a peaceful place. Her eyes were half open and closed. She then thought of her division, in no mystical manner she was able to see the rift.

A girl, sort of hollow save for a flame of another's purpose. Reddish curly hair, bright green eyes and a connection. She was holding Lily's hand. Lily shone with kindness, and all of the small comforts that hope and security gave. There was a string between them, a thread, that Hermione knew was there but was unable to observe.

Hermione thought that the best thing about her had been her moments of courage. They were so few, she felt, but she told herself, that wasn't true.

Another girl, bushy haired, bucktoothed, a book in her arms, and a few more in her bag. Sure and strong that wanted to work to make the world better, but a little lost, awkward, and a little too ready to let authority make decisions. Then, a young woman, taut, solid, her face hard and manner driven. Curly hair, floating around her head, eyes dark and hands covered in dirt and blood. She had bent the world, but she was responsible now for it being better.

There were things that she had done, that she knew required sacrifice. She had thought she couldn't live if she hadn't changed the rules, and now she knew that she had to abide by them, she understood that she could make rules anew. There was always a sacrifice. As unafraid as she was to create, the fear of destruction ruled her.

It was this that she had wrought. And she needed to recognise the destruction, so that she could rule it. But this good… this gentleness inside of her would have to be extinguished she feared. She could not keep it alive if she was afraid to become.

There were things that could not abide to be singular and in that she knew. She could not cut part and parcel all of that which made her, her.

The name then, was just a decision of acceptance. A symbolic realisation of all that she accepted and what it meant.

She opened her eyes, sweating. In the steam she thought she could see blue green copper and mahogany wings and molten irises. The heat pressed at her and had formed a symbol from one of the illustrations of sacred text Kage had shown and taught her about. An Antahkarana, a hovering cube, drawn as a gate, rigid and spiraling within a sphere.

She reached out and a lions paw slammed down upon the sigil, keeping the box.

A golden face, the one she remembered from when Sirius and James Potter pulled her from the Lake, her dreams of Alexandra, emerged from the steam.

"Unique until known, finite after infinite, singular and because of plurality, not alone but the loneliest be, neither there nor here and here to be."

Heart beating fast, frozen in place, Hermione felt her face stretch in intensity as the face smiled, stretching like a lions maw, lips and mouth black and red, fangs a yellowed ivory. The hot breath of mana on her skin.

The library of Alexandria had a guardian, a sphynx that asked a riddle. The answer Hermione had been clever enough to say she had been cast away from knowing. Always still, it was a part of her.

A being, the state of the human condition, and Hermione answered, mirroring the Sphinx. "A me."

Raw from the heat, heady from the herbs and feeling ethereal from the realisation, Hermione walked and as she approached the courtyard, she saw lanterns, glowing yellow. People were everywhere, walking through a circle she hadn't seen before. It was a perfect circle, woven out of grass.

She walked through it as if in a daze, and the sensation tingled like heat along her skin and inside of her mind. Moriko and Fuyuko stood on either side and they escorted her back to the hut. Bells and song and smells all one smear. Hermione saw how Moriko's eyes were gleaming, her tails thick, teeth needle-like. Fuyuko's skin shone like snow, eyes and hair like the shine of a ravens wing.

There were things in the forest that she saw clearly now, the line of the estate. There were tree spirits, little forest sprites with shadowy faces and spindly fingers. Ghost like beasts, tall and wide. Paper figures, running with ink drifted down the stream she crossed.

Stepping into the hut it was an emptiness she felt she had fallen into, then steading herself, weightless Hermione dipped her brush into the inky square and then drew her name.

The fire lit, and Kage was before her, Hermione cast the paper into the fire and knew that she would see the steam in the smoke.

"This is the gate." Kage then stood before her, the tooth in her hand.

Hermione's back was straight.

Kage scraped the tip along the top and center of her forehead. Hermione felt a brief bright pain. The wet trailed up, in its wake a sensation like mint and incense.

Then, nothing.

* * *

AN: Updated after submitting chapter due to small errors. Sorry! Please let me know if you see anything or think of anything I didn't address! I don't have a beta reader for this, so if you're interested, let me know.


	19. 4: II : 18 : Hiraeth

**Act II: Render**

 _Man is the only creature that refuses to be what he is._ Albert Camus

In which intimacy is grown through the mutual art of gifting vulnerability, healing and joy.

 _Chapter 18: Hiraeth_

* * *

After the escape from Malfoy Manor

* * *

The beach was cold. Dobby was so small in his arms. Blood- far too much of it -soaked into Dobby's socks.

Harry felt fury beat into his head, sucking at his heart like the sounds of waves rolling back into the unknown. Ron was yelling. Harry didn't process what he was saying. Ron's shouts crashed against the white noise of the ocean.

Harry saw Hermione in his line of sight. Her hand dripped. Draco Malfoy was slack-jawed, just as it had been when he lied about not recognizing Harry to Greyback. Malfoy's face was lightly puzzled, as if he wasn't sure how he had gotten here, staring opaquely at Dobby, dead on his lap.

Malfoy had attacked his family. Hermione could have been dead, too, if he hadn't. That understanding, however, did not bring Harry comfort.

Dobby's body was too easy to lift. Harry said, "Ron."

Ron's face was blotchy as he turned away from Malfoy to look at Harry.

Harry started to move. The beach was devoid of people except for those that had been washed here in the teleportation of Dobby. Ollivander was limp, sand sticking to his flyaway hair. The goblin was struggling to stand. Luna stumbled a little, and reached out her fingers to graze the back of Malfoy's hand.

Ron's expression looked torn between anger and broken contempt.

* * *

After Dobby's Funeral

* * *

"Malfoy mentioned that he'd have a look at- well, at this," Hermione put her hand over her arm. Fluer's pink sweater that Hermione had borrowed was soft, but the coarse tan of the bandages around her fingers and wrist ruined the illusion of her comfort.

Harry stared, still exhausted from treading over a pool of seething rage and having to stay still. He flicked his eyes at Hermione's and she looked away.

"It still hurt?"

She shrugged. Her lip twitched like she was going to tell him not to worry but instead she flatly said, "He'd get Bill to watch and give feedback with a spell of some sort since he said it was a curse. Just needs a wand, and that's...We're asking you-"

"Asking, or telling." Harry heard his voice come out wrong, like he was punishing Hermione with the question. Another wave from beyond Shell Cottage broke upon the shore. Harry, a moment after, didn't understand why he was upset.

Hermione shrugged. Her face was drawn, eyes dark when she returned his look, "The pain will likely over time fade. The cuts from...the chandelier are healing normally enough, but none of us are Healers so it's fine, just thought- I just thought I'd ask."

Harry brushed back his hair, trying to clear his head, "I mean, if you're sure-"

Hermione's mouth moved, "It hurts- it's always hurting and I can't - I can't sleep." Her face flinched, and Harry reached out to put his hand over hers.

"Yeah, I know." Harry hated that Hermione had something like what he had in his head in her arm now. Under the hate he felt a reflex that sought connection, to ease her pain. He reached out to give her a hug.

She maneuvered so he rested his hands on her shoulders, but she gave him a watery smile, "I am not much use like this- not sleeping right, distracted all the time."

"You're loads useful- what are you talking about," Then something caught Harry's eye, like a shine of moonlight.

Luna stood at the door frame of the garden.

Hermione glanced over at her, tense.

Harry asked, "What is it Luna?"

Luna tilted her head, "I think Ron is trying to protect you, but he's too angry."

Hermione's face scrunched in confusion. Harry sighed and dragged himself over to give a listen. Hermione raised up her hand, like she expected Luna to place an answer in it. Luna only stepped aside. Sure enough, Harry faintly heard Malfoy's voice raise.

"I think I at least am entitled to use my eyes-"

"You don't deserve _anything_ , you pathetic, treacherous, foul betraying ferret-" Ron was bellowing behind the doors.

Harry loped inside the house, throwing open the hallway door to hear Malfoy scream back, "I know! I betrayed my family, my father before he had to kill me- or worse-"

Harry heard someone get slammed into a wall, and Bill and Fluer stopped abruptly. They had been on their way to the kitchen from the living room and second floor and saw Harry by the kitchen.

"'Zey need to keep it down- Ollivander needs his rest," Fluer said as Harry reached the kitchen, Hermione on his heels. He waved at them and heard Draco's voice strain.

Harry opened the door to Malfoy flailing about and Ron blocking and stepping away from the wall, his hand on his jaw.

Harry, then Hermione, stepped in, shutting the door behind her. Malfoy panted, his voice twisted like he was about to cry, he sputtered somewhat unintelligibly and Harry watched Malfoy struggle. He watched him grip his waist with one hand and in a parody of movement wave his other.

Ron looked like he was confused. Harry felt Ron was about to say something he wasn't sure he believed in. Harry thought it was similar to how Ron had communicated with Hermione when they had fought that entire year. Before he put his foot up his own arse, Harry sighed and with affection said, "Ron, he's done enough- he gave up his family and saved Hermione."

"As much as that was worth." Malfoy put his hand over his mouth and looked like he was going to be sick. He turned away from them and Harry saw his hand shake before he steadied himself on the table.

Hermione nodded at Harry. Harry drew Malfoy's wand from his pocket. Ron looked at Harry, making sure he was serious. Harry jutted his head over at Hermione. Ron went to Hermione as Malfoy faced him again, and Harry gave the wand over. Harry pretended not to notice the tear on Malfoy's face, also glistening with sweat on his temples, and met his eyes. Malfoy's thin eyelashes had stuck together, and his mouth tightened.

Ron guided Hermione to a seat. Malfoy accepted the wand tentatively, then Hermione pulled up the sweater sleeve. Ron watched closely as Malfoy gently undid the bandages and muttered a quick apology at Hermione's sound of discomfort.

Malfoy bent over, a tear running down his nose, his hair limp, and began to mutter. "If curse-breaker Weasley wants to come in-"

"Just go 'head."

Malfoy heaved in a shuddering sigh and then concentration smoothed his forehead. He began to mutter and his voice dropped an octave or two as he enunciated a spell. Hermione seized but Malfoy tightened his grip and her skin began to bubble and blood twitched like a magnet pulled up sand.

Harry was reminded of Hermione, looking much bigger and much more like a cartoon of her in his head, telling him that Snape had not broken eye contact, and was constantly muttering, and that's why she had figured he was casting the curse. Malfoy was doing the same now- and thought it was strange that this was how he knew.

Hermione was panting. Ron turned her head into his chest. He was protectively hunched over Hermione as much as he could, watching Malfoy. Ron made a noise that sounded much like Molly Weasley as Malfoy incanted. Hermione kicked out her leg and gave a cry.

At some point Bill and Fluer came in while Hermione was grabbing onto Harry's hand and slamming it into the table.

Bill was watching carefully, but Fleur started to reach out, tears shining in her eyes before Bill pulled her back. He drew Fluer in and tucked her into his arm whispering into her hair. Harry watched as Bill steadily met his eyes. Bill nodded and they left. The kitchen must have been small, Harry thought.

Malfoy pulled his wand away. A thin, viscous, grey string that dripped brackish blood snapped off of Hermione's arm. Malfoy sucked in his teeth and inspected Hermione's arm as she turned to look as well. "Looks like I am a little too late- again."

The self loathing that Draco Malfoy managed to express struck a nerve with Harry. Harry put a hand on Draco's shoulder, damp from exertion. Draco looked at him, and Harry didn't quite know Draco well enough to interpret the raw expression, and both of them were suddenly uncomfortable, so they looked when Ron pulled Hermione up to wipe away her tear smudges.

Ron nodded at Draco, serious and cordial.

"If that is what passes as- as gratitude for you, Weasley I'd hate to think how under-appreciated Granger is- since at this point you practically owe her your life a hundred times over."

Ron tightened, whispering, "She bloody knows, she's a bloody know it all."

Hermione gave out a little 'ha' and looked between the both of them then commented on Draco's prior statement, "Thank you Draco. Honestly, I don't mind keeping a few scars."

Draco brought a hand to swipe his hair back out of his eyes and with a look that made Harry think of the snide boy he met in Madame Malkins said, "Well as long as they got there by pure talent and didn't just buy their way in."

Though he didn't have the vocabulary for the absurdist moment, he felt it. With a dizziness that swiped away the ugliness he laughed. Hermione chuckled and Ron and Draco looked at each other and seemed to agree that the responses were undue.

* * *

After Remus announces Harry is a Godfather, while they plan to break into Gringotts

* * *

Draco didn't bother knocking as he broke into the trio's 'meeting' with the goblin. They nearly jumped out of their skins as he swayed into the room and then sat on the bed.

"Excuse me, that's my bed-" Granger started but Draco crossed his legs and waved her off.

"You can't break into Gringotts with one stolen nibby wand, and my wand. You'll get caught out while down there and certainly you'll run out of things-"

"How'd you know-?" Weasley started.

Draco sniffed, "Please, you're hol'd up with this bugger- sorry, wonderful, esteemed, Gringotts goblin-"

"Watch your tongue, wizard, or I'll hang it where you can see it-"

Draco made a face, thinking 'prickly little bugger,' "Yeuch." He remembered Granger's explanation of Potter's view on non-wizard creatures that possessed language, and re-directed rather than address that bit. "No, idiots, everyone knows."

Potter put his hand up to rub at his scar, "How do they-?"

Granger hid her face in her hands. Weasel, blustery, got up and the goblin measured Draco with narrowed eyes.

Draco wet his mouth, nervous but determined. He had just been cornered by curse-breaker Weasley and Fluer. "Also, you have no idea if-if Bellatrix is allowed to leave what very likely is her punishment." He was proud that he hadn't stuttered over her name.

Draco tried to deliver that information as lightly as he could, but their reactions were quite heavy with the understanding that they were not the only victims of the Manor. Potter, nearly vibrating from frustration and anger, asked, "What do you suggest, then, Malfoy."

"You can't be serious," Weasley asked, waving his hand in Draco's direction.

Granger sighed, "He has a point- but we can't leave to get information." She gnawed on her lower lip and watched Draco like he was going to hand over a test question.

Draco crossed his legs and leaned back on the bed. It was quite nice- but anything was better than his salon couch. "That's not exactly true." Draco kept his suggestion under his tongue for a bit- watching them move around the room like rabbits.

Potter was the first and spat out over Granger, "Tell us, then."

"They're going to want to obscurify that the Dark Lord's closest allies betrayed the cause. His most devoted servant of highest caliber failed when Potter was so close."

Granger nodded and sucked in a breath to launch into an explanation.

"That's not going to last long however," Draco cut through and she deflated, her face displeased she wasn't allowed to lecture. He scoffed, finding her reaction endearing but colored with his usual 'know-it-all' dismissal.

"Fuckin' bloody hell Malfoy- get to the bloody Merlin-wand-panted point." Weasley's voice started to raise. Draco tossed up his hands. Raising his voice wasn't going to get him everywhere in life, the Bubotuber, but his creativity at swearing was an exponentially growing skill that Draco couldn't help but find amusing.

Draco smirked, "If we stick to wand inspections..."

"Wand inspections." Harry's voice was deadpan.

"Yes." Draco said.

Hermione pinched her nose, "Do you have to be so-"

"Such a bloody ferret?" Weasley added, and Granger swatted him, ever trying to keep the peace.

Draco was offended, he was trying to be a bloody hero but he was denied all sorts of fun. "I know the spells. I know how they're tracking people-"

"How are they tracking people?" Granger cut in. He quickly and quietly addressed her, "The ministry overlay and then wand alterations, of course."

Granger huffed, "Of course, he says."

Draco bowed a little, then continued, "I will volunteer to go and gather some wands and ingredients."

Weasley grumped, "Oh no you don't-" Potter sternly shouted, "No!"

Draco stood up and crossed his arms, "You're bollocks at espionage." He looked at each of them.

Granger groused, "So are you! Harry was convinced that you were up to something all of sixth year-"

"Potter is obsessed with me-" Draco said dismissively, as Potter sputtered and Weasley shouted, "You twat-"

"-it's no wonder that he noticed- but I've gotten more practice in and I am naturally more devious."

Granger rolled her eyes back into her head. Potter was shaking his head but it was Weasley who fixed him with a narrowed glare.

"Fine." Weasley said. "You and I will go."

"What- no, I'll go-" Potter started and Granger shook her head wagging her finger about.

The goblin croaked, "This doesn't concern me," and waddled out the door, throwing it open loudly. They could hear Dean, Fluer and Luna's voice chatting back and forth talking indistinctly.

Weasley shut the door again and looked at his friend with both hands on his shoulders. "C'mon mate, you know you can't. Not if we're coming back here."

"We can't risk it-" Granger added faintly, hovering around the bed. Draco moved so he wasn't so close to her while Potter said, "So you're just the ones having a big risk on your backs and going off alone with him?" Potter pointed at Draco.

Draco took a little turn back, not wanting to admit that it stung. He felt anger rise up under his hurt and his attempt at controlling it just flattened it with a heavy dose of self-loathing. "I'll just-"

Granger reached out to grab his sleeve and she shook her head, mouthing, 'no-'

Draco tightened his jaw and watched her face. She still had dark circles under her eyes though she looked less drawn- and her hair… Draco shook himself out of this strange sap like feeling. He sassed, "What- are you going to leap down my throat and say I should stay here or that I can't be-"

Granger nodded over to the other and whispered, "No, you're right. You and Ron- it makes sense for you two to go."

Draco halted, "Not- not you?"

She shook her head leaning in to say to his shoulder, under the conversation that Harry and Ron were still going back and forth on. "I'm the only one that will be able to keep Harry here." Draco looked at the top of her head and had a weird realisation that Hermione was actually short. She continued to whisper as he turned uncomfortably, "We can't let Harry go, but we can't leave him alone."

Potter wasn't taking whatever Weasley was saying well, and had stiffened. Potter's face was ugly, and a foul wind rustled the curtain. Hermione muffled a sound of fear. Potter's voice was frightfully cold, and he left, slamming open and nearly busting the door off its hinges as he threw it shut behind him.

Ron brushed back his hair and let a long sigh and looked over at Granger and shrugged. "Guess that was as close to a go ahead as we've got."

* * *

"The Dark Lord has heard that your attestations to the cause are of great importance-" Draco was sweating underneath the summoned mask. He was bloody shining lucky that he had learned how to summon a mask. Under the guise of pre-eminent business he had gathered a few unhappy attendees of a pub in Pembrokeshire. The risk was not all that high, but it was choking Draco now.

Weasley was disguised in a different manner, and was mingling with the others in the way that they had discussed. He was supposed to be the apologetic, but charming, partner of cold and authoritative Malfoy.

Weasley was currently speaking with some young witch who was twirling her hair while a few of her other friends waited for their turn to examine their wands. "Really now? And how did you manage to hear that?" Weasley smiled, princely, and covered his glance over at Draco with an arm to move his blonde hair out of his eyes.

Draco, using his mother's glamour charms, had given Ron blonde hair. It was a gold shade rather than his own silver, but Draco was lucky three fold because he didn't know why the abyssal planes _that_ was the result- he had done it perfectly. Also, with another skin smoothing charm- handy for those preteen break outs, he had applied it to the Weasel's face to wipe away those freckles. No one would call that man a Weasley, but there was something that was making Ron nervous despite his new swaggering personality.

Draco swallowed before performing a compatibility charm over the wand. This wizard in front of him hadn't summoned the mark and hadn't come up marked. The two wands he was able to secure- the first two who had offered, and the first to leave the pub in a fit, hadn't come back. He was pleased Granger and Potter saw them off before he had done such a number on Weasley. Because, before he was caught out and turned on by an angry mob, he had still gotten the vindictive pleasure to witness when Weasley had leaned in for a kiss from Granger and was rejected. Draco delighted in the pain of others, and hadn't questioned it until he realised he would have to deal with Weasley's crippling self esteem issues.

Giving Weasley a pep-talk and a make-over was not on his Merlin blasted list, but it had come to it, and now they were ass deep in manticores with a grand old stack of _two_ wands that they could use.

Draco dismissed the wizard in front of him, "Continue to behave according to the authority of your new Ministry." The wizard grumbled, and Weasley came over close.

"We've got to go," Ron said.

Draco nodded and with a flourish announced, "That will be all, citizens."

Ron smiled and jabbed Draco's ribs and waved and they quickly got out of the pub. Ron nearly ran out.

"Calm down Weasel-"

"Shut up- _shut up_ \- we have to get out of here."

They walked quickly, and then Draco held out his arm and Ron, disgusted, took it. Draco apparated them to the pathway with planted trees next to a River.

"What is it, then?" Draco said.

Ron shook his head, "The Malfoy's are publicly being punished."

Draco's heart stopped, he knew it had been a possibility and had tried not to think of it but the tone in Ron's voice smacked of fear.

"What do you mean? Are- we have to go up- we have to get them out of there!" Draco started panicking.

"Look, you've been swell so far but you've no right-"

"They're being _tortured-_ you have no idea, no idea what you're condemning my family to! They're going to die-"

"Your family helped start this fucking mess, you absolute arse. Your family gladly tortured Hermione-"

"That's not- that's" Draco sputtered. Doom encroached, and Draco was sweating chills.

"There's no way I'm putting my life or any of my friends on the line for this-" Ron gestured between them- "-to go any further than letting you know we can't be out pretending to be associated with the Malfoy's or-"

"My mother's done nothing- _nothing_ to deserve what she'll be put through-" Heat flashed through Draco and blood rushed to his head as his stomach churned.

"You've been fucking bollocking up everything- a complete arse for the past decade you absolute wanker- you're not in charge, you're not going to be and you can't put Harry or my family at risk because your family's made choices that have caught up with them."

Draco snapped. He seized Ron, and Ron, recognizing when Draco was resorting to fisticuffs, grabbed hold of his arms and tossed him aside.

Ron whirled around, "Tough fucking shit-"

Draco turned to reach for his wand, then realised Ron had it in his hands. Draco quickly began to negotiate, "Now, let's consider this, alright? It's not even sunset- the Manor still may recognize me-"

Ron crossed his arms and said, "No."

"Let's just- entertain the thought. You want wands that won't be tracked, haven't had the net spell thrown over them- and those are going to be the wands at the Manor. We need supplies for Gringotts, we need to know what's going on-"

"You can keep listing things off all you want but I'm not putting Harry at risk for that."

"Putting me at risk for what?" Harry had appeared, looking upset and guilty.

Draco pointed at him and heaved air through his lungs that didn't seem to be working. Ron whirled around and said, "Fuck- Harry, where's Hermione?"

"She's gone to the bathroom, and I came here 'cuz you said this was-"

"You can't leave her alone!" Ron cried.

"Great, Potter's here and we- we can all go to the Manor."

"You're going back?" Harry asked.

Draco, his head whirling, his thoughts fish hooked on impending death said, "Yes," when Ron said, "No."

Draco was shaking, waving his hands in front of him, trying to get a hold of his head, "Look you want wands? There's wands, supplies, keys- whatever you need there. I'll just pop in and get - get my parents out and then we'll go. Done- simple."

Ron shook his head and then looked at Harry, "He's mental, absolute bollocked in the fucking head."

"Yes well, if you think that rescuing a mother from vile- _vile_ violations and things worse - _worse_ than crucio, then- I suppose I just thought better of you Ronald Weasley, King of Gryffindors."

Ron's face muted.

Harry said, "We'll go."

Ron shook his head, his lips pressed together, he swung his head at Potter with great feeling. "We are going to go. You-" he pointed at Harry, "You are going to go back to Hermione, and you're not going to breathe a word of this to her and you are going to _stay there and you're not going to leave her alone."_

Draco watched, his breath coming back to him as he focused on going to release his mother.

Harry swallowed, and Ron grabbed Harry and gave him a hug. Ron pointed at Draco, and handed him back his wand.

Ron and Draco met eyes.

Draco would not forgive himself. If he had gone or if he had stayed- there was no forgiveness, only cruelty and the mercy that was not afforded to his mother, Draco would never spend upon himself.

But he did not know at the time, and Ron was the one who went with him.

* * *

After Bill returns the Tiara, Before the Gringotts Break-in

* * *

The weeks passed in Shell Cottage. Draco Malfoy was quiet and unusually torpid. He hadn't a room to himself, so he spent time in the garden and at the beach.

The house felt strangely empty in the early morning hours. Hermione had come downstairs to make tea, unable to sleep. She paused at the living room door, ajar. The couch was empty.

Hermione knew that, at the time, she had told herself that it was due diligence, but suspicion laced her casual perusal of the house for the missing Malfoy. Though, observing this memory as it rose inside her, she wasn't sure if there wasn't also some amount of curiosity and loneliness.

She wandered into the kitchen and saw Draco outside, asleep under a tree. After hovering over the kettle, she returned to the living room to fold up Malfoy's blankets. She had intended to read, but instead stared off into the distance at the wall space, her tea forgotten. There was a sound in the kitchen and she turned expectantly. Ron came to the doorway, peering into the room cautiously.

Her face pinched an approximation of good morning to him. He came in, standing before her. He gestured at the couch and sucked in his lower lip a little. Hermione nodded and moved. Ron settled down and placed his arm over the edge of the couch, his hand reaching out over her shoulders.

She bit her bottom lip and curled into him. Eagerly, he tucked his arm around her and she felt warmed by him. His voice thrummed in his chest, he breathed quietly over her hair, "Getting sleep?"

She looked away and said nothing.

Ron scrunched his face briefly. Then, he pulled her closer, his face soft. Hermione pulled away, a little. He hesitated. Ron started lamely, "I just-"

Hermione stated, awkward, "This is his bed."

"He's not here."

Hermione shook her head, pushing away from Ron. Maybe she had felt something shift in his presence and maybe it wasn't what she had thought, but the air between them was tense.

Ron switched the subject, "Where's Malfoy, anyway?"

"Outside, asleep."

Ron was quiet. Hermione stewed in the silence. The comfort of Ron being close was muted now, ripe with indecision.

She said, "Something is- not right, I know that. He was different when you came back. I know you went back to the Manor, too, but- what happened?"

"It's not really-" Ron wiped his face. He shrugged, "I dunno if I should be the one to say." Hermione looked at him and he gave in. "Malfoy … he freed his parents as best he could. It was… too late for his mother and we had a run in with Lucius. He- spat... at Malfoy."

As she observed the memory, she felt sorrow for his loss in a way she hadn't had the capacity for at the time. Hermione, understanding it enough at least, shifted back to Ron, who wrapped his arms around Hermione for a long while. They sat like that until they heard Fluer and Bill come down the stairs when they shifted away from one another. Hermione was uncomfortable with vulnerability being observed.

Draco came in from the garden and stopped at the living room door. He turned, saying nothing and wandered away again. The day stretched on. In the afternoon, Malfoy had disappeared again. He was likely in the bath, but as he had been in the bath again for two hours now, he had become the subject of conversation.

"It does 'im no good to be like this." Fleur said.

Bill was adamant "Leave him be, for Merlin's sake,"

Fleur just raised her eyebrow, "'ermione, wait for me in the kitchen."

Fluer knocked on the bathroom door with panache. She said, "Come down now. I need your 'elp with dinner tonight."

It was strange, remembering this in the frame of Kage's instruction. Somehow Fluer had known what Hermione had not been able to learn from the experience with the French witch.

Hermione was seated at the table with cutting boards and paring knives. Ron and Harry were with Bill, listening to the radio. She had no desire to do _that,_ but neither could she dig into the skin of the vegetables. She hadn't touched the knife and had been instead moving the roots around and washing them. Hermione hadn't paid attention to Fluer's explanation of why she was melting butter and making flour flurry in the kitchen.

Draco appeared in the door. Fluer said, "Peel the potato, _si vous plait_."

He was silent as he entered. Hermione felt like she ought to say something. She watched him get to work, steadfastly not making eye contact with her. She failed at thinking of anything to say. Draco set to work on the potatoes that Hermione had cleaned. Hermione considered a spell to remove the skin from the roots, but balked. She stared off into the distance, trying to remember what spell Molly Weasley had used to charm the knife to cut.

Fluer blew a hair out of her eye and asked, her hands busy with dough, "I need- ugh, please hand me the- what is that word, how do you say-"

Draco asked something in French, that Hermione gathered was a request for Fluer to tell him the word she was looking for.

Fluer popped her lips and said, "Shit- I forgot that, too, it's the thing, the thing-" frustrated she pointed and commanded, " _Accio,"_ and the Triwizard champion pointed at the yeast.

Draco blinked, saying, "Levure?" as it soared over and Fluer caught it.

Hermione looked over at Fleur questioningly; because Fluer did not use a wand, or use the word, _and_ she had forgotten the word in both English and French. Hermione was not bilingual, except biliterate in some Norse Ancient Runes, and considered it a fault in the memorisation if she was not able to recall a particular word. But Fluer was fluent, and it did not make sense to Hermione at the time.

Fluer looked self-satisfied, albeit focused on not getting the yeast packet doughy.

Draco hissed as he sliced a chunk of his thumb's flesh off trying to peel the potatoes. Seeing Hermione's suspicious look, Fluer blew more hair out of her eyes and returned Hermione's unstated question, "What, that doesn't happen to you?"

"No," Hermione said, glancing at Draco.

Draco said, a little more touchy as he waved his hand around, "Not everyone has a mind like a steel trap, alright, Granger?"

Hermione gave Draco a look. Fleur said, "'Ermione may be a steel trap, but your mind is like stone."

Hermione dragged her bottom lip under her teeth and winced, it wasn't like she _hated_ Draco. She just had a difficult time trying to be empathetic towards him. Some nasty part of her thought that it was better that there was one less Death Eater in the world and the cost of that was payable.

But Draco sort of gave a smile she thought a drunk man might make, eyes too relaxed, face too limp, and said, "No- not stone."

Hermione said, "You've been quiet."

"Miss the sound of my voice, Granger?"

She retorted, "Don't be glib."

"Don't sound like McGonagall."

Fluer laughed and folded the yeast into a watery jar. Hermione shot a look at Fluer. The woman, pink in the cheeks, shrugged with feigned apologeticness and stated, "This was not my idea- I think that work helps clear the mind, you are the one asking questions and-" Fluer sputtered, "-sounding like that stern Professor of yours."

Hermione, irritated, turned to Draco and crossed her arms. "You're never quiet. How are you-" Hermione moved her mouth and jaw, "-doing, with… well. It can't be easy." Hermione's eyes felt a sting. They hadn't even started on the onions. She very quickly said, to give rationale any display of emotion that crept out, "I also, lost my parents… in a way." She hurriedly went to pick up the knife and then flinched.

Draco resettled into peeling the potatoes as Fluer watched over her shoulder at the counter. "Well, I have this ability to sort of box that up in order to function," and then, he shrugged.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. Her fingertips at the edge of the cutting board with the yet to be diced vegetables.

"I mean, I know Occlumency."

Hermione stilled over the knife again. Draco didn't return her look as he expertly peeled the potato and gave a satisfied smirk. He held it up to Fluer, "Just like bitter-root."

Fluer nodded and said, "Perfect- now the onions."

Draco sighed and said, "Just like …" he picked it up and thought for a moment examining it.

Hermione filled in, "Gurdyroot."

Draco raised an eyebrow at her and she quickly said, "It's because Ron ate a love potion once."

Draco and Fluer both chuckled and Hermione still intent, asked, "Does… should Occlumency help with dreams, normally, too?"

Draco started peeling the onion and flicked his eyes up at her. "It does."

Hermione bit her lip. Her dreams had been painful, and she might have been getting more sleep, but she hadn't had a restful night for weeks. Fluer's borrowed sweater covered her hands even while cuffed. Hermione's fingertips looked strange and frail as she reached to cover the paring knife. She didn't want to hold a knife again- the feel was too chilling, the memory too close to the surface.

Draco made a face as the onion sprayed at him.

Hermione said, "Maybe... You could instruct me? In Occlumency. Or Harry- he tried with Professor Snape once but-"

Draco pursed his mouth and didn't look at her as he peeled the last of the first layer of onion away. He glanced at Fluer's turned back and then nodded at her.

Ron came into the kitchen, "Hey, when's dinner? I'm starving."

Hermione stood up abruptly. "If you're so hungry, help out."

Ron shrugged and said, "Alright." rolling up his sleeves and going to the sink.

Hermione went past him and hurriedly ran up to her room- anxious and for some reason ashamed. She could just hear Ron and Draco get into it as Ron accused him of having upset her.

Fluer however was triumphant, and had the last word as Hermione shut the door and slid down to cross her hands over her knees and tried not to spiral into thoughts and memories that she wished were gone.

* * *

After Gringotts, after the first visit to Hogwarts, after they obtain the sword and The wand, after Switzerland

* * *

They were in France, in a village near a hillside Hermione had visited with her parents. Ron had found a villa used as a vacation home. Uninhabited, due to the weather and wealth of the muggle, Harry had broken into it easily. Being inside made them antsy, and outside was a necessary risk to garner information. Hermione stayed behind, to keep the house warded and to avoid pub hunting. Draco, Ron and Harry had finally found a pub in the small town that wasn't out of their price range.

Draco opened the quaint door and flourished Harry and Ron inside, the small drifts of the unexpected but in season snow crept into the bar and melted on the floor.

Some patrons inside cast a look at them, but as it was a holiday town in the off season, most returned to tend to their own party. There were a multitude of people, mostly young, around square tables and large casks with glass fitted over the top.

The three of them sidled along the gaps between people dressed in coats despite the humidity inside. Smoke from some of the tables padded the air. The dingy interior, lit with red and yellow lights, stank of wine and beer and body sweat. It was probably nicer in the summer, Draco thought, but late fall was not kind to the atmosphere.

Harry and Ron had a quick discussion between themselves as Draco made eye contact with a group of people that looked distinctly out of place for the mostly European crowd. They had shaved, short hair, exceedingly pressed clothing and looked so strange that Draco found himself wondering if they were wizards.

Draco gave a polite dip at the waist, and smiled to fight his awkwardness at being in a muggle bar. Harry turned at Draco's strange movement, and pointed to the small table pressed up against a wall by the group that Draco's attention had caught on. The tables were dark, sticky with thick varnish and Draco tried to sidle into the bench against the wall when his hand touched something sticky and he quickly stood to slide out on the other side of the table.

"Eugh," Draco flicked his wrist at the spot where Harry was already sliding next to.

Ron stayed standing and gave a one shouldered shrug as Draco shook his head and offered Harry the seat. Harry took it, "What's wro- ah, I prefer to have my back against the wall anyway." Harry shifted and pointed at the seat.

"You nutter," Ron said far too seriously and loudly as Harry muttered _scourgify_.

Draco turned to the group seated by them, and asked in French if the heavy barstool they had by them was not taken.

"Non, man." A man with less than an inch of blonde hair on his head replied with a strange smile.

Draco's eyebrows twisted, but accepted the answer from an obviously not French man. "Terribly kind of you, fine sirs."

"' _Terribly kind of you,_ '" another of them mimicked and put his lip against the glass and chuckled. Their third, thick in the neck and chest like Crabbe, guffawed and put his meaty fists on his knees.

"' _Terribly kind_ , dude, could you be more gay if you tried?" The third man was speaking in a strange accent, Draco thought.

Ron looked over, his face confused as Draco stuttered out, "If it would please you, I could be less polite?"

"Dude- I think he's actually a fruit."

Draco was concerned, perhaps these were wizards after all and they had been found out.

Ron, apparently of the same opinion, cut in, in an attempt to cut the tension, "Nah, he wasn't ever a fruit but he was a ferret once."

Harry looked to be getting upset, and jabbed out, "Look we're not bothering you- just leave off, mate."

"I'm not your _mate_ , asshole."

"Alright look, we don't have to sit here-" Harry got up.

Ron looked back between Harry and the group, reddening as he caught on to their demeaning hostility. Harry pushed Ron and Draco to the bar gently. Draco looked at Harry demandingly, not liking that he was missing something.

"What in Merlin's pants were they going on about?" Ron asked Harry, as Harry waved over a bartender and gestured to a tap with three fingers.

Draco watched the bartender, a cigarette dangling from his lips, pour three beers- poorly- and waited for Harry to stop huffing and rubbing his pinking face. Ron nudged him and said, "C'mon mate, spill what's that all about-"

"They were implying that Draco sleeps with men, and were being insulting about it."

Draco scoffed, "Insulting? About what? Me able to seduce men?"

Ron scoffed, "Able to? It's not that hard Malfoy."

Harry made a face like he would disagree and Ron pointed at him, "My sister basically threw herself at you- you kissed a crying girl and managed to bollock that up with international fame, **_you're_** difficult. I don't know about you." Ron's smile was threatening to break out at the seams.

Harry sheepishly rubbed his head, "Just pay the man, Ron."

Draco said, as Ron pulled out money from his pocket counting it out carefully, "What- and you're using yourself as an example?"

"Sure am," Ron said, "S'why I dated Lav-lav for so long."

Draco made a face, considering.

Harry snorted, correcting Ron and commenting on how French coins were different than the British pound. Ron said, frustrated, "How's that getting anything done?"

The bartender said in a heavy french accent, "They're changing it," and slammed their drinks on the bar top with a slosh "-at least for Europe." The older bartender, looking as if he had a very long day, waited patiently with his hand out.

Harry glared over at the bartender suspiciously, and Ron handed him the money as the bartender tucked in a smile and left them. Draco accepted the beer carefully, trying not to get his sleeves (which he had just managed to press and clean) wet with the froth. Draco was still stuck on the interaction and took a careful sip with the absolute minimum number of fingers on his glass.

"It can't be that big of a deal- and it's the only seats open." Ron said, taking a gulp of his drink.

Draco narrowed his eyes, and Ron slid back over to the table. Harry grabbed Ron's arm and shook his head, saying, "C'mon we're here for some information and to see if there's anything wrong." Ron rolled his eyes and chugged his beer.

The only time Draco remembered being utterly humiliated was in front of these two idiots. Draco didn't feel embarrassed, but it was a weird pinch of shame that dug at his insecurities at navigating muggle phenomena. He decided it was more embarrassing that he responded to such open insults like he had and once he had pinpointed what felt off he fixated and it dug it's sting under his skin.

Harry laughed at Ron and said, "Information's not down there-"

Ron put the end of the glass up to his eye, "Yer, but I can see if there's anything missing like this-"

"Thinking 'gay' is an insult- they're absolute troglodytes." Draco couldn't help but grind out, stead fast focusing on the issue.

"Ey- what's that?" The man who had slammed his fists down on his thick thighs had appeared behind him causing Draco to startle.

Ron loudly countered, his hand out to move the man away so Draco could turn around, "Look here, he got a better insult than you, now deal with it." Ron put his glass down on the counter.

"Look here boys, rest of France may be okay with fudge packers but we're not, so scram." And the man with close cropped brown hair shoved Ron's shoulder.

"Excuse me," Draco said, indignant and upset that again he was confused and targeted by a thick-necked muggle, whom wasn't even as large as Goyle.

Harry had a strange kind of smile pasted on his face, his eyes quite large behind his spectacles. "Ron, I think that we might need to handle this first."

Ron nodded, his face similar to when he was acting as Keeper and Draco had one second to say, "Wait-" Harry said, "Why-?" when Ron gave out a bellow and walloped the guy with two hands across his face.

Sudden chaos struck. Harry was sidelined with the force of Ron's strike. Draco quickly put his beer glass on the counter and moved to politely shoo the by-standers away, apologising and explaining the situation in french as best he could.

Ron, whomping and taking wallops, had knocked over a bar stool and the two others that the man had been with. The foreign men had tried originally to separate them, but their friend turned on them, shoving them aside and Ron flailed and kicked out.

One of the patrons, an old man with an impressive mustache said in french, " _Ma pièce est sur celle à cou de taureau. [_ My coin is on the bull necked one.] "

Draco responded in kind, in a stroke of brilliant genius, as he would remind himself later, "[How many coins, for I will lay down three against that]."

After Harry waded in, yanking on the others, the Bartender took out a paddle and started slapping the backs and the heads of everyone involved in the scuffle. The locals were shouting and repeating what Draco had explained over the commotion. The bartender shouted, prodding the foreign men out. They took up their hands while one of them threw a fit and kicked a table.

The old man with the mustache nodded and drew out three francs and pushed it over to Draco. The Malfoy accepted the defeat graciously and waved him off.

Harry asked, "Did- did you just get money? From that?"

Draco shrugged and Harry said, "Great. Next round is on him." Harry got up, swiping the money off the counter and moved into the throng of people who struck up a commentary on how well he handled himself.

Ron said, lightly tapping Draco's shoulder. "Table's free now." Draco glanced over at Harry, who seemed to be deflecting public attention in his usual way but absorbing more of the praise for something that clearly Ron was responsible for. Though Ron was unbothered and seated himself at a table. Draco followed.

Ron checked his eye and nudged his jaw up at Draco as he sat, "Oi, is my eye bad?"

Draco sat, "No, I'll still heal it. Otherwise it'll get worse."

"Wicked." Ron said, and then there was an awkward air before Draco decided what the right thing to say was.

"That was- I am not sure that was for _me_ exactly, but I appreciate your- staunch-"

Ron shook his head repeatedly and shrugged, "It's not, like."

Draco tightened his posture and stretched his legs out straight to cross stiffly at the ankles. He leaned back and wished that the barstools had a back. "Right, it's not like you did it for me. I understand- that- you hate me, but I suppose I am having trouble understanding why-" Draco put a hand over his mouth, feeling stubble. He felt grubby on top of feeling prickly, and still biting from the embarrassment he retreated into the familiarity of antagonizing Ron. "-Oh possibly, because King Weasley can't control himself."

Ron shrugged, the moniker having no effect on him. He shoved back his hair and leaned his elbows on the table, "They shouldn't make anyone feel miserable about who they, well, you know. They needed a lesson." Ron winced as he prodded his eye again.

"Stop that." Draco said smartly.

Ron grimaced and shrugged again, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, and I was looking to let off some steam." Draco fiddled with the buttons on his wrists and glanced over at Harry, in the process of paying the Bartender. It was true, Ron and Harry had been snippy, to put it mildly. Moody Weasley was a volatile combination with a fragile, and therefore sharp, Hermione, and bitter-dark Potter caused it to tumble down into an affliction on good sense.

Ron continued, "'Sides, you and I have tried to come with so many plans to save Harry n' you've done a better job than I've done."

Draco stiffened and looked at the freckled pale face of Ron Weasley, best friend of Harry Potter- in shock that Harry's second had claimed that Draco had done anything of the kind.

Ron went on, seeing Draco's evident shock and giving a little explanatory lift of his lips, "It's like... You're a good ally for Harry, and I won't forget what you've done- for Hermione, too."

Draco felt as if something cold inside him snapped and he froze.

Harry came up and sat the drinks down on their table. Harry was chortling, "Har, Ron, those lads over there want you to fight again, and I said not for less than three francs and they said they'd put five on you. Seem to have won them over." Harry finished, proud as he sat next to Ron.

Ron said, "Cor, if it's for money, fuck, sure. Malfoy here can patch me up." Ron nodded and raised his glass to Draco and Draco hurriedly tried to cheers him though the dawning realisation of what Ron was preparing himself for came none too quickly.

Harry looked between them and his face splattered into his beer as he scrambled, shouting, "Wait! I was not serious!"

Ron, however, was.

* * *

Still in France, still hiding

* * *

Hermione was on a sette, alone in the dark house they had 'borrowed'. The light of a few candles and the fireplace was dim, but bright enough for her to pretend she was reading. A book was in her hands, but she was chewing on the skin of the inside of her lip, and her hand merely held the page open.

The villa's bookshelves were fully stocked with non-sensible fictions. Hermione felt like she had pulled the only two books out of the inset shelf that didn't have a busty damsel limp in the arms of an oiled up muscle man, or some vaguely sensual image of flesh. ' _The Unbearable Lightness of Being'_ lay discarded next to her tea. She couldn't seem to get past the first chapter; the theoretical discussion of the uncertainty of meaning the character was rattling on about was depressing, and came off to her as sanctimonious in her current mood. Reluctantly, to try and get her mind off of the outing that Draco, Ron, and Harry had been insistent upon, she switched to the other book, ' _G'._ But her eyes slid out of the strange italian imagery in the first chapter, bored of petty, irresponsible characters, and she absently flicked ahead to a different passage in order to find that critique of society which had been advertised on the back.

Her attention was plagued by her ' _what if_ 's' until the alarm she had set for the front door rang safe. She put the book face down in lieu of a bookmark, and turned to watch the door swing open. Ron stumbled in, drunk. He was breathing heavily and placed his arms heavily on her shoulders.

"Ron, what are you doing?" She wasn't upset, but concern made her voice tight.

"Mmmph, 'Mione." Ron bent his head over hers and squeezed her, smelling of alcohol. She placed her hands on his arms gently.

Relieved as she was to see him return safely, as much as she felt affection for Ron, _this_ felt different. He had been more physically _present_ recently. There had been a few times where she felt something between them. She didn't know if it was her girl-hood crush or a friendship forged in blood and biology, but there were times where she thought they would be more than friends. Though starting a relationship in war seemed like a mad, desperate thing. Afterall, it didn't feel like a war at this point- like it already felt _more_ than a friendship. The state of things was nearly insurmountable. She didn't see an end in sight and if there was to be an end, she didn't know if she and Ron pictured the same postbellum epilogue.

Ron turned and came around to her. He got on his knees and stared up, the fire making his hair torch red and gold. His blue eyes were reddened, face blotchy under freckles. His strong jaw, long chin and nose, wavered under a tremulous expression. He smelled like sweat and cigarettes. She didn't mind. It was his demeanor that unnerved her.

"You once said I had the emotional machur-tee of a teaspoon." Ron finally said, his eyes closing. Hermione tensed. "I get it, and I want to work- to be better for you." His smile made that crease she thought was so endearing.

"I fucked up." He repeated it several times in her silence. She heard Harry and Draco come into the house, closing the door, their voices faint as Ron continued. "I did. I fucking left. All self righteous- and you- you don't want-"

Hermione's face was painstakingly similar to what her mother's had looked like when telling her an unfortunate truth. She thought she hadn't meant to look... condescending, but it was because she appreciated what he was saying, and dreaded what he would say next.

"Do you- d'you forgive me? Hermione?" Ron asked, swaying as he switched to one knee. Hermione watched her face flicker and thought, 'no' as her memory of her said, "Yes, of course, of course-" but she must have blinked the wrong way.

Ron said, "No." He shook his head and dropped her hands. "No," His voice was pained. He staggered up and said "I'm n' idiot. I know-"

Hermione said, "No!"

Ron shouted, "Yeah! No- you're right," He scowled, "I'm _worthless,_ " Hermione kept saying no over him, grabbing at his sleeve, following him off the settee, but he left, "Just leave- leave me alone!" He stumbled out of the door, and pushed Harry.

Harry looked at her stricken face and his confusion hardened. He rubbed his head, "I told him not to do it tonight." He gave her an apologetic look, and gestured loosely. "'M gunna go- talk to him, who knows, what he's-" Harry shook his head, obviously also inebriated, but less so than Ron. Harry murmured something she could not hear as he left to go after Ron.

Harry's departure revealed Draco, standing in the shadows.

Hermione stood there, colder now that she had gotten up out of her reading nest and for other reasons. She didn't cry, not this Hermione. She was angry, but Hermione watched herself and knew that it was confusion and pain.

Draco entered the room and shut the door behind him without turning away, his expression neutral.

Hermione turned to the fire, and stood there, fuming. "Go ahead."

Draco casually, "You've gotten the seat nice and warm for me, then, thanks." He took her blanketed spot, plucking up the book.

Hermione spun to face him, "You're not going to say anything?" She wanted to lash out, to vent an argument she couldn't have with one she could.

Draco pursed his lips and waved the book a little back and forth, "You always had unconventional tastes," there was only a sliver of a pause as he turned the page. She had originally missed it, raging by the fire. As an observer she saw it differently. Draco looked up from the page, "-but I may even read this myself."

Hermione shrilled, "You're not going to say I am a heartless shrew or laugh at Ronald, or say that that's what I get for-"

Draco tossed the book up and flung out his hands, "Is that what you want?"

Hermione ground her teeth, "Of course not." 'Yes' Hermione hadn't realised the thought at the time though some part of her registered her dissatisfied disappointment. She wanted to have someone shove her nose in her flaws, make them bleed so she could give in and rage against it until she was defeated. Disgusted, she had turned away, not able to look at Draco.

Draco stood, looking at her, "What is it that you want from me then?" Draco stepped closer to her.

She felt the slick of the painted brick fireplace on her hands as she backed herself against the wall. Hermione darted a glance at his feet, just socks. She was nervous at being cornered this way, that maybe he would discover her pitious self-hatred. "Nothing." He didn't move. Hermione watched herself settle into the small distance, the faint movement of Draco's wrist like he would reach out to her. She admitted, her thoughts tied together, "You just- always seem to have something to say."

"I could say likewise, and we could continue to fight, but I'm interested to know what you want from me."

Hermione looked at him and shadows cast from the fire made the center of Draco's face dark, the underside of his jaw and cheekbones warm. His face was sharp in all sorts of ways that Hermione didn't want to admire for too long. Some amount of stubble grew on his chin and jaw, lit to look silver. He leaned on the mantle, very close to her and the heat from her rage was turning into other feelings, like wanting to reach out, wanting to erase her confusion. Though her instinct confused her even more so. It was too much to process, and there wasn't enough space to make a decision. When she glanced away, he turned to a decanter and helped himself to glasses. Hermione held herself at the fireplace.

He brought a glass to her. "I think we both need this. _I_ was being responsible, mostly."

Hermione was bitter, and eyed the offer suspiciously, "What have I done?"

Draco's voice was mild, "You were just being you."

Hermione scoffed. Draco kept the glass out to her. The brandy was copper in the firelight, caged by cut diamond. It was probably just good crystal. He looked at her like he would wait forever with the glass held between his long fingers.

She took it and angrily drank it down. Draco tsked and took the glass back as she coughed. He refilled it, brought it back and sat on the couch. He swirled and smelled his portion as he made himself comfortable and warm.

Because there was no one else to tell, no Ginny to confide in, no Viktor to write, and Draco was just as trapped with them now as she was bound to Ron, she said, "I - should have forgiven him already. But it's ate at me."

Draco swiped his tongue over the front of his teeth and then sipped his drink. She knelt by the fire wrapping her arms over her legs. He said, too lightly, "I'd not forgive him. I don't know how you've tolerated me even this long."

Hermione looked up. "It's different..."

Draco rose his glass. His legs stretched out, he looked like a lizard, still slightly stiff even when he was laid back on the couch. His hair was a little limp but he had combed it back and the hairs curled by his ear lobe. She remembered all these details, and re-observing stared for longer than she thought appropriate. Back then, she was more frightened of exploration and had more quickly turned to look into the fire.

Draco said, "Fine, in our case you didn't always trust me-"

"I haven't _always_ trusted Ron either- not really. I mean-" she turned, defensive and trying to explain, "-I have but-"

Draco twitched his face, "He's not the sort of reliable Potter is." He held up his hands as her expression clouded, readily leaping to Ron's defense. He treatised, "He's the sort you want on your side in general..."

She rubbed her forehead, then commanded, "Move your legs." She went to sit by him, and Hermione nearly rolled her eyes at herself. That was the closest she came to acknowledging that she was being insufferable.

Draco looked affronted but graciously maneuvered so she could sit under her legs. He gave her a bit of the blanket and picked up the book he had tossed up in irritation.

Hermione rolled her tongue in her mouth and sipped at more of the sickly sweet, burning alcohol. Draco opened the book and began to read, seemingly ignoring her. Simultaneously they paused. They looked at each other, hearing the shouting from upstairs.

Hermione weakly asked, "Can you-"

Draco made a face, "You want to-"

Hermione shook her head, "Honestly, no I can't- I wouldn't know," she trailed off, trying to express that even if she had more to say she wouldn't know how to begin it without sounding like a traitor or dishonest. She wasn't sure Draco even cared in the way she needed someone to care about her struggle. There was something that she felt like he wanted to know, and didn't want to give it to him, let alone admit to herself.

"Shall I read then?" Draco said, swirling the liquid before swallowing.

Hermione shrugged. It'd help, she thought, to avoid hearing Harry try to convince Ron of anything, but she didn't know how she felt about Draco reading anything aloud. She hadn't listened to anyone read her anything besides her mother.

"Alright- then, shall we just start- yes, here." He held it open about a hundred pages in to where she had flicked to. After he cleared his throat, "'Do you know the legend of cicadas?'"

Hermione corrected his pronunciation, "Cicada. It's an insect that-"

"Granger." Draco looked at her and raised an eyebrow, "This is not how this works." Hermione pressed her lips together.

"Fine."

"'Do you know the legend of cicadas?'" Draco paused dramatically, and slowly looked over at her. She stared challengingly. He continued, "'They say they are the souls of poets who cannot keep quiet, because when they were alive they never wrote the poems they wanted to.'" Draco raised his eyebrows, "That's quite nice, but ah, something that maybe Lovegood would have said." His jaw flexed, and sadness lowered his features. Hermione looked into the fire. They had talked about Luna's disappearance in Switzerland, and it wasn't a conversation she wanted to revisit. Neither had Draco, because he continued reading.

Ron and Harry's voices faded, and Draco's reading cadence settled into her head. The lyricality of the author was wonderful, but Draco abruptly stopped after several pages with an apprehensive, "Ahh,"

Hermione looked away from the fire. Having settled into the idea that Malfoy was reading her muggle literature, and accepted that she found herself enjoying it, she was annoyed he stopped.

Draco made a small, nervous laugh, "Going to skip this bit."

"Why?"

"Well."

Hermione took her hand away from her chin and peered over at the book, "What is it?"

"It's that-" Draco glottal stopped, and ran his finger along the page then flicked it away, "Just- this part's not important."

Hermione leaned over, aiming to take the book out of his hands, "It's been lovely so far- why?"

Draco held the book up and away from her and gave out that strange little laugh again, "It's just- I don't think- I mean the descriptions just go on like that and we get it, she's about to be married."

Hermione cross, "It's not like we're reading this for merit, we skipped approximately a hundred pages. And anyway, how do you know it's not important?"

"I _very_ much doubt-"

"Now we're here, just get on with it. Unless, what, you're bored of muggle literature? You know what's important in muggle literature? " She sliced at him, a bit more vicious than a prod.

Draco raised his hand and looked away from her, blustering. Like a child, he said, "Fine." He drank the rest of his drink and then reached all the way over to the decanter. She watched as his body strained so he could pour more of the liquor into his glass, not wanting to leave the covers, likely. She watched, bemused as he swallowed, not sipped, and she held out her own glass feeling pleasantly fuzzy headed. Settled again, he started the paragraph over and then led into a scene that froze Hermione's head.

Draco's voice only tightened momentarily during the overture of the erotic scene undoubtably about to unfold. The character was interested in the engaged woman. Charmer that he was, it looked like he was to be successful at seducing her.

She couldn't stop him _now,_ not since she made a fuss. Draco had even found his confidence and was reading the passage in the same tone as he had read the rest, which _for some reason_ made her face heat. She couldn't necessarily remember everything that was happening on the page but she remembered the flight her head was taking.

The door opened. Draco nearly choked, his drink sloshed as he dropped the book down, and Hermione whipped to look over at a defeated looking Harry.

Harry immediately drew his eyebrows tight, and shut the door with a curious tilt to his head. "Er- did I-?" Harry started.

Hermione quickly reassured him, "No, please- ah," she waved him forward. Harry dragged himself over and plopped his body down between Draco and Hermione.

Draco shifted as Harry, oblivious to his discomfort, settled between the warmth of their combined presence. Harry sighed, his voice gritty, "He's fine." Harry rubbed his face and muttered, "For now."

Hermione put her hand on his shoulder. Her friend was looking a little worn. Thin still, but his hair was wilder than his normal windswept. She resisted smoothing his hair down, confused, having noticed Draco's hair growth, she was surprised Harry's length stayed stubbornly at one height. Instead, she rearranged the blanket to cover Harry's legs, and quietly, "Thank you. I'm so-"

Harry adjusted himself, shaking his head. "You've got nothing to apologise for. He's got his own issues to sort out. I just wish I could-" Harry took out his hands, tensing them like he wanted to grab onto something.

Hermione put her hand over Harry's, gently covering the scars that proclaimed he would not lie. Draco scoffed, "Hero complex, big head. One can't save the ashwinder from the fire."

Harry rolled his head over to Draco, "Come off it. What's that about-"

Draco looked like he was going to say something but Hermione, slurring a little said, "No, really. If I've got nothing to be sorry for, you don't either. He knows we're here."

Harry sighed a yes, before a small quiet took over the room. Harry kept Hermione's hand and moved it over to his side under the blanket where he could warm his hand and hers. She smiled at him as he stared off into the fire, his head resting back, exposing the angle of his jaw and bob at his throat. She spotted Draco trying to slip the book away as he drank from his glass, but Harry asked, also spotting the book. "Were you reading? Thought I heard you talking."

Draco's shoulders stiffened minutely, and he drawled, "Yes. Reading aloud. It's like a conversation but the book talks instead of Granger."

"Don't let me stop you. Sounds nice, er not the _not_ talking part-" Harry said reassuringly to Hermione, face sincere.

"It's not very good," Draco said, flat.

"You're far along for it to not be good enough, mate." Harry said, a nippy tone that Hermione recognized.

Draco's eyes fluttered and said, "Granger, care to bring Potter up to speed?"

Hermione opened her mouth like a trout. If she didn't say what it was, it was like admitting she had been wrong to not trust Draco's judgement, if she did- well. "Er- he's right, it's not very good."

"Really? Interesting- and here I thought you were going to fight me to the death over the _merit_ of muggle literature."

Hermione snapped, "I told you we're not reading it for _merit._ "

Harry wasn't looking at either of them and frowned at the fire, confused. "Do you get along when no one is looking or is it just because I'm here?"

Hermione, her head feeling light enough to float off her head, covered her face, "It was going along fine actually," Harry made to get up, making a disparaging sound. Draco put his hand out to stop him as Hermione continued."No, the book, it's- not because you're here- silly. No, er-" She tossed her hand towards the bookshelf. "I thought I chose a sensible book but- the shelves are totally filled with absolute _nonsense_."

Harry blinked owlishly.

Draco sighed and handed the book to Harry. "I'll go look for another? Maybe Granger missed one."

"I did not!"

Draco left the settee and slid across the room, running his fingers over the books, "Bloody hell, this one's just called _Lust-_ ah, here's ' _The Dragons Bride'_." He drew it out of the shelf and then his jaw dropped, and he whispered to himself, "Godswounds, look at the absolute shamelessness."

Harry had furrowed his brow, his mouth slightly open as he read the page Draco left off at. Hermione just covered her face, determined to not deal with this.

Draco pulled another one off the shelf, "Nietzsche Classes- oh _philosophy_ is it? Never looked like that." He slammed it back into the shelf, "Ah, Latin." Draco turned to Hermione as she peeked between her fingers. "Bound to be dry." He selected it and held up the cover- a silver trailer with a sunset in the background. "' _Post Tenebrux, Lux'._ Promising." Draco flicked through it, back to front and then brought it close to his face. His face changed and he shook his head. "Never mind, completely filthy. What is it with-? Obviously, who ever camps out here has a problem fancying redemption arcs. Don't they know about Perfect Potter?" Draco sneered over to Harry, a playful huff under his breath.

Harry shut ' _G.'_ with a vigorous shake of his head, "You really don't have to- that was-"

Hermione guffawed, "Bracing."

Malfoy said, getting into the show of it, "Oh wait, a hero type. Potter, look it's your future." Draco held up the cover of the book and Harry pushed his glasses up, giving a small laugh. Draco tossed the book over to Harry, who caught it and leaned over to show Hermione. A blonde dame's bosom was spilling out of her dress and an oiled up man with some time period clothing falling off him embraced under an embossed, ' _Forward to Time Past.'_

Harry caved in from a fit of silent laughter, pinking. He gasped, "Fat chance."

Hermione remembered Harry's awkward description of his kiss with Cho, and his dismal luck with girls until Ginny. Even when Ginny was doing most of the work Harry was obtuse. She couldn't help the expression on her face, but Draco continued, trying to hold the stage away from melancholy. "Let's go for something obviously scandalous- I'd rather not read about perfect Potters descent into debauchery." Draco slid out another book, "' _His Majesty Prefers Blue'_ \- well," Draco raised his eyebrows, and tucked the book to his chest, showing off the title.

Hermione cried, "Just give up! I said as much."

Harry said, "C'mon get on with it, pick anything-"

"What? Harry!" Hermione thumped her hands on her thighs.

"What else will we do? You want to go to sleep? I don't." Harry shook his head, his green eyes bright. "It's all 'nonsense' anyway, and you-" he pointed accusingly, "-you were fine with it." His face slowly changed, a thought clearly dawning in his head as she watched.

"No-" Hermione warned away the thought, "No!" She begged him, "It all happened so quickly-"

"She just wanted to be right." Draco smoothly transitioned, "This actually looks quite good, look at this- what are these?" Draco came back over, and held the book cover seriously.

"Looks like a ninja." Harry said, interested, moving so the blanket could cover the three of them.

"What's a ninja?" Draco said, opening the book and accepting his position beside Harry.

Harry laughed, "Ah, it was just- on the telly."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "They were _real_ , they're not just fiction."

"Don't make fun at how Potter gets his jollies. I do demand a stipulation, we're going to need to come up with a way to get through this together."

"Drink." Harry said simply.

"That's not-"

"Posh, Granger- Potter, you're right. I'll start reading and then I'll drink and we'll switch. Like a consequence game."

"How is that a game-" Hermione sputtered.

Draco found the first page and said, like they were putting him on, "What, you never played the consequence game?" Harry and Hermione shook their heads.

"What's the consequence game?" Harry asked, "Is it like exploding snap? Or wizards chess?"

Draco's face soured, "Must have been a part of my esteemed tutelage. Come on then, what are the terms?"

Hermione demanded, "How are consequences considered a game? Who is responsible for indulging in something like this?"

"Zabini for one, he was great fun, bit more spiteful though than…" Draco trailed off, and drew his upper lip under his teeth.

Harry abruptly admitted, "I never've been read aloud to."

Watching now, Hermione saw that Harry had sensed Draco's impending descent and offered up his own vulnerability. All Hermione heard was that Harry wanted to participate. So, she caved, "Alright- let's hope this doesn't get too absurd."

"The more absurd it is, the more we drink." Draco said, tilting the book up.

"What's absurd though?" Harry asked.

Hermione blurted out, "Manhood."

Draco wheezed.

"That's hardly a consequence." Harry snorted.

"If you can't finish reading, then you'll drink again. There, that's a consequence" Hermione crossed her arms, shaking her head. "Unbelievable."

"Ah- I am the one holding the book, Granger." Draco leaned forward past Harry to glare at her.

Harry said, "Fair enough,"

"Just get on with it," Hermione groused.

So, Draco did. For a bit they guffawed and laughed, and thought nothing of the outside world as Draco poured libations. Then finally, she closed her eyes to sleep. Harry was resting on her shoulder and Draco's head tilted, his mouth open, leg under Harry's.

* * *

After a few more weeks on the lam

* * *

"Quick, make it quick, she'll be coming out any second." Ron said.

"Shut up, you're not making this easy!" Malfoy hissed.

"Uh- Hermione!" Harry stepped out in front of Ron.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing!" Harry said.

Draco whirled out from around Harry, "Just savoring the last few moments of fun."

Hermione turned her body with an eye roll.

Harry looked back at Ron and nodded, "You're grand, hardly noticeable." The split lip's swelling was down and his jaw only looked a little sallow.

"I'm making tea." Hermione shouted from the kitchen.

Ron leaned towards Harry, "D'you think that was an offer?" His neck had a bit of dried blood on it and Harry pointed it out as Ron hurriedly rubbed at it.

Harry shook his head. "No, Ron. I think that was a statement."

Ron huffed, twitching up his brows and grinning, "More like a _sentence._ "

Harry chuffed. Malfoy, leaning on the stairwell, shouted while facing Harry and Ron, "I take mine black."

Harry grimaced as the sound of the kettle slamming on the stove signaled Hermione had heard Malfoy.

Malfoy muttered, "I'm freshening up. Don't start without me."

Ron nodded, "Yeah, right. And we're just supposed to go in there after you treat her like a House Elf and not have to start in on something else for our own protection."

Draco stomped up the stairs, "It's a perfect distraction."

Harry, despite the dogged severity of their situation, couldn't help but feel lighthearted. "C'mon." He reached his arm up around Ron's shoulders.

They entered the kitchen, a little wary because they knew Hermione was becoming more rooted against their outings. Especially since Ron had started in on fighting, she had become more suspicious and demanded to know where they were getting the money for their pints.

Harry selected a cup and gave one to Ron. His friend gave a small wince for a thanks and Harry couldn't help but circle back to Ginny in his thoughts. He and Ron had shared a moment of worried silence for her while Malfoy had looked on, blank. Harry knew Malfoy understood what it meant to lose a family member, but suffering not knowing, Harry figured, was beyond him. Draco behaved very well anyway.

Hermione was behaving oddly, on the other hand. She was scrunched up, her eyes circled and swollen. She wasn't lecturing them, and didn't seem to have the same kind of spark that he had come to rely on.

It was time. He knew. They needed to go back.

Malfoy had arrived faster than they thought after the kettle rang. His hair and face looked fresh as if he had scrubbed vigorously. Hermione was seated on the chair, Ron, Harry and Malfoy fixing their tea as they liked it.

"You were lucky." Hermione referred to the information that they had brought back, a rumor in a newspaper that Draco was able to read. She was huddled, trying not to be timid but finding it difficult to find strength to go and face all the things they abandoned. "The family from Switzerland could have returned. They could have said something." It was an old argument, one that lacked the usual punch.

"Right, well- they could find us at any time, but they're not." Harry crossed his arms, his mood a little brittle and wild after the night he said what he had been meandering towards for a while now. "I've abandoned all them, wizarding Britain I mean."

Draco scoffed while Hermione soothed, "Harry-"

"No, I have. I am the one to slay Voldemort. It's not been done, has it?"

"Draco and I have been working out a-" Ron started but Harry threw out his hand, angry.

"Don't- don't try and weasel out of this." Harry gritted out, and Ron flinched while Draco's appeasing face changed to uncertainty. "It's got to be me, we know it does." Harry looked at Hermione, expectantly waiting for her to chime in assurances that yes, indeed there's no way around a prophecy, or worse that she would say that she had found an irregularity. Her eyes were wide, brown and empty. Ronald cleared his throat, and Harry whipped his head to him. Ron raised his mug.

"Alright." Ron glanced at the others, "We're with you. You know we are."

* * *

AN: I hope you all were able to notice the differences in the stories being retold from a different perspective. Additionally, it's difficult to write light hearted scenes in between the traumatic events- please review and I am *still looking for a beta*. Thank you for sticking with me!


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